Page the Second


A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi. (In front of you, a precipice. Behind you, wolves.)

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Misty Morning

I went running this morning. For once it was lusciously cool. It was too cold and dark for most of the little old ladies who walk there. Finally it seemed as if autumn had arrived. I was all covered up and looked quite unlike the other runners I saw...but I was warm. By the time I was halfway through my run, I realized why they were wearing shorts. I started pulling off layers but had nothing to do with the extras.

As I was running around the park, the fog rose up from the dew-jeweled grass. It felt as if I were running through a cloud. I was glad I'd dug myself out of bed to go.

On the way to drop my load of seminary students off at school, I mentioned how pretty the mist was as it lifted up from the city. Then suddenly I remembered that in German, mist means manure. I think my passengers thought I had finally lost it, since I giggled maniacally clear to school.

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