The Sunset Run

It has been awhile since I ran at the park. Heck, it has been awhile since I ran at all. Ironically, what prompted me to run today was this annoying, movement-restricting,  pain in the knees that refused to go away since the past two months. 

Easing myself out of the running hiatus, I started with brisk-walking. The rhythm of my feet touching the ground, one after another, lulled me into my own little world. I realized that I’ve never been up here at this time of the day. I took a deep breath. The smell of damp, dried leaves wafted through the air. I looked around for something somewhat familiar, but no, it was quite different. There were no monkeys chilling by the trail as usual. The sound of crickets singing was prominent, like a haunting soundtrack. But it was not the same song that filled the air in the morning.  As the familiar trail transformed into a strange, unknown place, my thoughts quickly returned to my knees.  Maybe it was time to pick up the pace, I thought. I broke into a slow jog, my knees were doing fine, it wasn’t painful .Left , right,  left,  right- sharp pain. Stop.  Walk.

I looked up to the sky as I huffed and puffed for air. The sky was a gradient of pink and orange, with a hint of purple. Fascinated, I fixed my gaze on the salmon-coloured sky as I continued walking. It felt as though the sky at that very moment was giving me a personal visual montage. Through the narrow tree-covered trail,  through the intertwined branches, I saw the sky turning from deep blue to grey to purple. Pink was gradually losing its presence. And when it was completely gone, the moon was unveiled.

Nature seemed to cast a different pattern of shadows to the area. The trees seemed to be bowing lower and branches didn't look as friendly as it was in the morning. The rustling sound along the bushes were not something that I was familiar with. I was struck by this myriad of movements. There I was moving through my bubble of existence. And everything else was moving too, in their very own dimension. Nothing was ever in the same place. They looked similar, but they were definitely not the same. It was nothing novel, but realizing yet again how every single element moved at its own pace, to its own rhythm, touched me for some reason.  I loved the thought of how each of this different motions, at each point, came together,  creating frames and frames of unique moments. No two moments would ever be alike. And there was no other way to completely enjoy these moments aside from being completely present. Once it was gone, all you would be left with, were memories, such as this.

The trail started to take a downhill turn. Taking advantage of gravity, I broke into a jog and trotted downhill as the sound of the Adzan broke through the air, crisp and clear. At the parchment right before the parking lot where lil bro was already waiting, a black cat was sitting pertly on the grass.