To Fly

This morning it was already almost 90 degrees when I set out on my early run. It was a difficult run--perhaps because of the heavy heat or maybe for no reason. Some days things are just harder.

It's Opening Day for second session at camp right now, and I have soaked up the fact that today was filled with brunch and the new Woody Allen movie--no signs of bullhorns or trunks. Opening Day: something I will never miss about summers in Michigan. I remember two years ago in the middle of the summer looking at my Wednesday night garb laid out on my bed and detesting the fact that I would have to put it on. It wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't ugly. It was just...unbearable to me for absolutely no reason to put on the navy cloth skirt and the plain white tee.

Today I ran on the gravel path along the town canal. My heart didn't even seem to be joyfully pumping. It was a sullen child stomping in my chest. As I passed a jogger and a baby in a stroller, I waved and said, "Good morning."

Yesterday my dad and I went to a local bee farm. We saw a presentation on honey-making, and I got some beeswax lip balm. When I think of bees flying, I never consider that it is hard for them. They just...crawl around and suddenly lift off into the air. Sounds nice, looks fun. Flying.



The baby probably saw me pass, covered in sweat and thought, "Looks fun. Flying."