Thump, thump, thump.
Inhale, exhale, breathe in, breathe out.
Ch, Ch, Ch, Whump.
Walking through the wooded path on the border of the lawn. Breathing and hearing my steps, distracted by only the fall through the leaves of the first acorns from the trees around me, ch,ch,ch, whump. I am free of dinner waiting to be warmed inside, homework pending on the table, the dog waiting for her turn, the conscious sound of the girls singing and jumping on the trampoline. I am passing the beans still somehow making it in the garden, thinking about the transformation of the seaons, thinking of the transformation of my self, the shedding, the growing, the changing, the never-ending cycles.
It’s another pass and it’s 2 miles. That’s it just 2 miles. It’s one foot in front of the other. Thump, thump, thump. It’s the steady breathing in and out. It’s not timed, it’s not minutes added, it’s not calories burned. It’s freeing my body and making it feel alive. It’s peaceful pre-dusk. It’s work left behind. It’s transition time. It’s a green acorn in my pocket or a feather in hand for Boo. It’s the start of a gentle rain falling. It’s two miles. It’s trying to become a habit.