signs...

In a country that is all about order it is ironic that I feel like I live in a law less land because I often find more humor than purpose in the signs---  A few Saturday- morning run laughs with signs--

                                          This one I get-- "walk your dog like this here!"  

This one I'm not so sure...  are they saying don't do this here but 800 m over there?!  Glad to see the euro beach wear is being modeled as well....

The turn around point on my run-- and I thought I was getting a long run in..  Things I wouldn't see if I kept to my usual routes....  A sign that I have a long way to go!

After a cold, cloudy week it was a stunning, colorful morning.

Love those signs that bring peace that everything works out.  I've been running with a friend that lives in Cham.  Her daughter was in my class last year and we meet to run by the lake on Saturday mornings.  Mollie was traveling this weekend so it was just me and my thoughts.  I stopped a few times to breathe deep in these peaceful spots.  I was thinking about a favorite book-- Ida B.  My post run-- reward is to stop at the bakery just down the street.  Pretty good therapy from a busy week:  sweet bread, runners high, and a sitting down to read a few passages of  Ida B.

"One day in August, the house and my heart got to feeling so gloomy and gray that I decided to give talking to that old tree another try.  I left Rufus home with Mama, hiked to the top of the mountain, climbed up the trunk, and sat in my usual spot.

I closed my eyes and rested my head on the warm, smooth, branch next to me.  I felt tireder than tired, so I was was happy to just sit there for quite a while.

The sun was shining on my back, and the wind brushed my cheek like fingers.  Then the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood straight up and tingled, so I knew something was coming.

And I heard that voice that isn't an outloud voice but you can still listen to it, just not with your ears.  You have to hear it inside.

Slow like sleep, quiet like night, it whispered.  "It will be all right."

And that was all.

There was a warm ball in my belly, and the warmth spread through me so I was heated from the inside out.  Every bit of me got peaceful and warm and sure, and I forgot everything except for the feeling of being so sure.  I climbed down, and when I got back to the ground I leaned up against the tree, put my face right into its old, white trunk, and said, "Thank you."

Grateful for signs that make me laugh, wonder, and center me to begin again---