4:48 a.m. 8 hours of sleep. Rested.
I jump out of bed. Dress. Gear up.
It’s 5:04 a.m., and I’m out the door. Running. With Mother Goose. (Again.) 9th consecutive day pulled outside by The Call of the Wild.
44° F, feels like 42° F. No wind. No traffic. Dark. Full moon beams from up above. Jenny Offill: “The moonlight through the windshield. No one talks.”
Same route. Down the hill. Around the corner. Down the street to U.S. 1.
There, up ahead, silhouetted under the street lamp, is the Masked Woman. 5:09 a.m. Can’t be her. No chance. She hustles across the street. I glare at her. You better make way for me Lady. She says nothing, but sweeps both hands up to cover her face. It’s going to be a good day.
I run.
Down U.S. 1. I work my way around the construction, crossing the bridge, the highway and into The Cove.
The same pair of geese stand at the entrance, that’s them in the photo above.
I pause for a moment to snap the shot, and keep moving, pulled forward towards the main performance.
The same acceleration of heartbeat.
The same anticipation.
