The end result of the raindrops falling on my face was my waking up. As if hibernating, my new found alertness was vastly different than the protective bubble that I have been sitting in. There are no roses to smell, even here in California, as it is nearing the winter equinox. Still, all of my senses were aroused into a playful awareness.
I looked around to see gray skies with a back drop of amazing colored leaves on the trees and on the ground. The birds sat on fences nearby and watched as I ran past. They seemed to be taking in my presence as much as I took in theirs. With each turn, I was fascinated with an intense awareness of how breathtaking a gloomy day can be. I was more amazed that I was actually experiencing it.
On this murky, yet peaceful, day there were only four runners were out on the trail. We waved as we passed each other, acknowledging the dedication to each of our journeys. I smiled as I listened to the sound of our feet splashing through the puddles.
I finished my run, soaked to the bone and content that I had found some separation from my grieving in order to experience life with a little more intensity and appreciation, even if only for an hour.