the color of dusk

I wish my eyes were like wide lens cameras. I am always wishing that the images I see with my eyes could be recorded, exactly as I see them, for me to come back to and revisit again and again. It would be great if I could flip through the images that enter my pupils like slides on a screen. Or like one of those little Fisher Price View-Masters I had as a kid, with the circular reels of miniature slides. I used to love putting those big plastic binoculars up to my eyes and clicking through the pictures. If my mind’s eye were like the View-Master, each time I blinked it would click to the next image, captured perfectly for me to enjoy again and again.

I was thinking about this tonight as I was squeezing in my run just before dusk. I wished that my eyes were able to permanently capture the beauty in the sky so that I could share it with everyone when I got home. But then, I guess that’s what writing is for, so here goes.

The coming of dusk tonight reminded me of a water color painting that I bought in a snow covered square in St. Petersburg several years ago. The sky was rent with long horizontal brush strokes fanning upward in colors of orange, pink, pale blue and ivory. The colors quickly became richer and thicker, hiding the sun behind dark indigo blue and purple like the color of cone flowers. Slender streaks of rose seemed to extend out from underneath the dark blue cloak of clouds, back lighting the sky with lavender hues. I passed the white steeple of “El Camino,” the Iglesia Evangelica whose bright silhouette stood out as if it were a picture in a pop-up book. It was the opposite of the bare trees whose thin branches looked charred like the color of charcoal against the sky’s canvas.

When I rounded the corner on the last stretch of my run, the clouds overhead had blended into the deep gray of evening. The vibrant colors which lit the sky moments before had faded into darkness now. I looked down and noticed a sharp black shadow moving over the flashing marquee of the S&S Cafeteria and the intermittent blinking of red and green from the stoplights. I didn’t recognize it at first, but after a moment I realized that it was me.

(Photo by jpstanley)

Sun Day = Run Day = Fun Day

I love warm sunny days like today. And now with the saving of the sun I am joyfully surprised again that its so bright outside, even at 7 pm. I decided that a day such as today was a perfect day for a run. So at approximately 6:22 pm I set out on my little neighborhood course under a big blue sky.

For those of you who may be gasping, "Wait...MEL?? RUN??? What about her life motto of 'I hate running'?" Yes, shocking as it may seem, I have finally found the joy of running. I started out slowly, and I'm still working my way up to hopefully being able to run for 30 minutes solid. This week I'm running in intervals of 5 minutes and 3 minutes with walk breaks for a total time of 30 minutes. A couple of weeks ago I participated in my first ever 5k race. I didn't run the whole time, but I think I did pretty well finishing in 37 minutes and 45 seconds. Not too shabby. And the best part is that I had a blast.

I try to change my course a little bit each week so that I don't get bored with the scenery. Tonight I went up my street and over to Azalea Court where I first passed the house with the insta-green-spray-on-lawn. The yard looks like its covered in fur the color that copper turns when it oxidizes. I like to think of it like those spray-on tans, except for grass. I wonder which would look worse in my yard: copper green spray grass or the current muddy slab covered in holes with shards of demolished grass hanging onto to the last possible semblance of life? These are deep curious ponderings...

Next I pass the house I like to call "House of a Thousand Daffodils." I just want to pause here to say that I think daffodils are one of the happiest flowers God made. They just grin at the sky with gladness and wave at me when I run past. Every time I go by that house I want to run over in the yard a pick a whole bouquet full of yellow smiles to take home with me.

Then I circle around on the main road past the Taco Casa (which smells strangely like the state fair to me... maybe its the fried grease...), Fresh Market, Fire Station and 3 dentist offices all in a row until I make it back into the neighborhood. Then I repeat.

As I came down the final stretch towards my house tonight I was thanking God for simple pleasures like running, daffodils and spray-on-grass that make me giggle.

I think running is good for the soul for many reasons, but particularly because it is a metaphor for life and I like metaphors. So I'll end this rambling post with good advice on running (and living) from Shakespeare:

"Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast." (Romeo & Juliet Act II: scene 3)

(Photo by Zed.cat)