The Visions We Carry

Pirates round the bases early and often to the whoops of the several thousands, us included.  Success breeds noise.  We were ready to enjoy it.

Facing another drive out of the mountains and into the city, we had run first, an easy jog along our dirt road.

We have learned that even half an hour in the natural world fills our heads with visions that carry us through the day.

So we sat among strangers sharing the pleasures of baseball as our team built a big lead early, and we could see wild columbine blooming on the banks, and the fierce-jawed ants opening the buds of peonies still thriving near the abandoned cellar hole of a long-vanished farmhouse.

The fluid nature of the game has international appeal. Its joys and disappointments transcend language. That is what drew us together, be it from the other side of the planet, or from a dirt road in Upper Turkeyfoot, also a world away.

The game ends.

We walk to the car in the dark.

We find our way out of the city and its confusions.

We ride the long road into the dark hills.

We hear the gravel snapping under our tires.

We shut down our engine and stand in our yard under the constellations.

Today we will finish at the computer, slip on our Asics, and run the road again. Among the life forms of these mountains, we will see the people of the park.

copyright 2010 J. O'Brien, all rights reserved