Thursday, October 7, 2010

Something Old, Something New

The leaves raining at the cross country state championships, showering everyone with a bit of gold.

I went on my first run from “our new place” on Monday. It was a beautiful afternoon: sunshine, fifty degrees, golden leaves blowing everywhere and covering everything.

On days like this I am quite sure it is the last of the season. Temperatures above freezing in October are a luxury. Above fifty? A lucky break.

A man on the radio proclaimed this morning that experts are calling for a frigid winter, despite the glorious fall. I don’t want to know what “worse than normal” means for us up here (unless, of course, it means we will be getting snow days—which are also a lucky break in this state).

Yesterday I biked with Curtis as he ran after work. We wove our way through the trail systems that surround our condo, reacquainting ourselves with trails neither of us have run much in years. We talked about work, stories and plans from the day, the week.

By the time we were finished the brisk breeze that had kept Curtis cool during the run left me with numb hands and red ankles, which had peeked out above my socks and below my tights. We went inside to make dinner (or rather pop a frozen pizza in the oven), and I was struck by the contrast of things new and things that haven’t changed. I use the same pizza cutter, just in a new kitchen. I wear the same bike helmet, but ride different trails. I watch the same seasons; they just manifest themselves in different ways.

And after a season of transitions, with new people in a new place with a new job and a new home, those bits of familiarity are more than welcome. They make living in a place with a long winter (with expectations of a harsh one) that much easier.

1 comment:

  1. Your posts have become transcendental moments of my days!

    Who am I kidding - they are my therapy. Every time I read your blog, I picture a platonic conception of myself: a calm, wise Ali who sips herbal tea while spending hours appreciating the turn of the leaves. Not neurotic, spastic Ali who is hopped up on Starbucks caramel machiattos and spends hours watching Jersey Shore and Teen Mom.