A View from the Top - Insignificance

Gordon Cherr, September 6, 2020

Heading out for the early morning run when I was struck by the little breeze bending through the trees.

It happens every year. If we pay attention, we runners are so attuned to the seasons, their length and intensities, the subtle changes in wind direction that herald their progression, the humidity that tells us whether this run will resemble running inside of a plastic bag and will be of no fun whatsoever or perhaps something else entirely, the deep red of the underlit clouds as a new sun rises, the skies that forewarn of hurricanes or tropical storms, or the gentle calling of the denizens of the evening, frogs and toads croaking, Chuck Wills’ Widow and Mourning Dove so aptly named, locusts and crickets calling out to us and each other.

Our planet hurtles through the universe. We are so alone. Except for each other.

Every year I can smell and sense and feel when the great seasonal tumblers click into perfect alignment. This morning was that morning. Summer into autumn. Just a tease but a message nonetheless. But one which always reminds me that all matters will proceed as they will, with or without us.

So, I ponder my insignificance yet again. Then 5 more sweaty miles.

Don’t ever take it for granted. Any of it.

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