27 October 2012
There is something quite cleansing about running in the rain. The soft patter of the raindrops hitting the leaves is like white noise that drowns everything else out and leaves the head clear. The only exception is the roar of the swollen river as I run across the wooden bridge, my feet slipping on the greasy surface. The path is littered with muddy puddles that require deep concentration to avoid. There is nothing worse than cold, wet feet.
I am alone except for the company of my dog who scampers ahead looking for something to chase. We are together yet alone and away from the rest of the world and it's hustle and bustle. Though I am cold and wet and out of breath, this is the closest thing to peace I have experienced.
The Rain • Opuss № I