I’m appreciating my running more now than ever.  Hard to describe really.  I’d like to say that I’m not enjoying it as much but I’m not sure that is true.  No step taken for granted to be sure.  To still be running at 60+ is a gift I cherish.  The form and fleetness of my youth, indelibly imprinted into muscle memory.  In my mind, I’m that runner.   The  clock begs to differ.  Stride length and turn over diminished.  Gravity pulling hard on less toned and taut muscles.  Running half as far, recovery twice as long.  How then can this aging, decrepit body derive such complete bliss from such a simple activity?  Once a Runner, Always a Runner.

I’m not crying and I’m not a mangled mess.  Today’s ambiguous title referring to our  landscaping here at the Bar None.  Weeping cherry, weeping crabapple, contorted hazelnut, miniature contorted weeping willow, dwarf peach.  Embracing the intricate and delightful inherent in all the seemingly disfigured trees and shrubs.  Real Beauty.  Our landscaping palate mirroring the very essence of acceptance.

Sometimes it just takes a closer look.  We all have beauty and value.  Bar None.

Miniature, contorted, and weeping.  Beautiful.