Running. With Color.


57° F.
I pull on my long sleeve shirt, first of the season.

Burning orange.
The sunrise is working itself up on the horizon. A sliver of light in sea of darkness.
My feet are light. A soft, cool breeze kicks up goose bumps on my chest – I shiver. No matter. All body parts functioning. Biorhythms in alignment. Run friend. Run.

Reflecto Green.
I pass a group of early morning runners. One is wearing a nighttime reflective green vest.
Firefighters wearing florescent green vests are lingering – – others are sweeping glass off the highway. My Thursday night commute home, and I’m late for dinner. My Northbound traffic will be clearing in 6 miles. Southbound traffic is at a standstill. I arrive at the bottleneck. The Roof of the Jeep is decapitated. White air bags hanging limp. 

Yellow. Double Yellow Lines.
I lumber up the meandering hill on Long Neck Point Road. I’m winded. I slow the pace to catch my breath.
He was 12 years old. I was barreling down a 2-lane highway returning from our vacation in Banff, looking for an opening to pass the car ahead of me. Double yellow lines signal a corner.  As I take my foot of the accelerator, a cat bolts in front of the car in front of us.  Eric screams and buries his head into his Mother. I’m looking in the rear view mirror.  He’s trembling.   

Green. Blue. Green Trees. Blue Skies.
I run by large homes. Curtains are drawn. Well groomed lawns. Properties framed with tall deciduous trees.
It was two years ago, August. I’m on my way home from work. All of life being in perfect order. Cell phone rings. Mayo’s. Can you talk? Sure, what’s up? I have bad news. I pull over and off I-95. I’m facing the woods. The trees never looked so Green. The sky never looked so Blue.

Three black birds tear at a carcass. They steal a glance at me and go back to their business.
Well, that about sums up this run.
Light happy feet have given way to sludge.
Black Birds.
Carcass on road.
Where the h*ll is the light?

Time Check: 6 miles. 58 minutes.

Nap time.

Color is a power which directly influences the soul. Color is the keyboard, the eyes are the hammer, the soul is the string. The artist is the hand that plays, touching one key or another, to cause vibrations in the soul.

~ Wassily Kandinsky

Image Credit: Fall Leaves in Maine (9/22/13) by Nate Levesque via llbwwb. Quote source: thepoetoaster

Related Posts: Running Series


  1. Renard Moreau says:

    [ Smiles ] Nicely done, David!


  2. Powerful, David, and to end with a Kandinsky quote–masterful. Fabulous artist. And another master’s take on the subject…. “With color one obtains an energy that seems to stem from witchcraft.” –Henri Matisse May you have a weekend filled with subtle hues, pal….


  3. I’m with donnaanddiablo…you are a masterful artist. I love your style. thank you.


  4. Very emotive. Well done.


  5. Beautiful, fall is my favorite time of year 🙂


  6. Ah, a painted aurora… by a very talented painter! Beautiful my friend. 🙂


  7. This made me cry…all of life is so precious, and when we realize that, the colors of this world appear startlingly clear and bright. I’m not even sure I’m reading what you are meaning for people to read…but there are tears for me.


  8. Wow! Six miles! And such a colourful run too.


  9. Very nice David


  10. color comes to life as we do.


  11. To run and still see so much is impressive. And to run six miles – in the dark – is pretty damn awesome..


  12. Your words are paint, full of color and vibrancy, David.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: