Halfway through my run, I turn toward the ocean. A cruise ship is anchored a mile off the coast. Passengerless, it sits. I wonder about the crew. It looks festive shining in the early morning dawn. But what must that be like? Waiting. No destination. No purpose. This is my halfway mark.
The road flattens and the wind rips from the west. My eyes water and my stride slows. After a few blocks of picket-fenced homes, I reach the trailhead, and the sun rises.
My morning run is timed to finish with a walk through the trails. I crunch along an uneven path. I slow and stop to notice small wonders.
above spiraling fronds that
will drip yellow bells
as a newlywed couple
joined in their first dance