Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Grass of Leaves
The boy and I went for our usual run today, out of the alley, down the street, through the seminary, across Lake Drive, and through Bay View park. The boy has been trying to change his schedule on me lately, so he was wide awake as we raced under grey skies and misty air. And raced we did. My knee can still only handle three miles, thanks to the marathon, but I can at least run those three fast.
As we dashed between the trees I could see a couple sitting on the park bench just before the trail splits down to the lake. They were embracing like only teenagers can -- with both arms holding tight and their faces locked at the mouth. As the boy and I approached them through the falling leaves to ruin their moment, the girl's fake interest in the grass and the boy's frowning eyes -- unhidden beneath the backwards baseball hat -- showed the sort of panicked, tender desperation one can only know while going through high school. And especially high school at this time of year -- with the whole weight of the rest of the year bearing down, just like the threatening clouds that kept misting us as we passed them and burned up the hill toward the next grove of shedding trees, the whole time thinking about how much farther my knee would allow this to go on.
As we dashed between the trees I could see a couple sitting on the park bench just before the trail splits down to the lake. They were embracing like only teenagers can -- with both arms holding tight and their faces locked at the mouth. As the boy and I approached them through the falling leaves to ruin their moment, the girl's fake interest in the grass and the boy's frowning eyes -- unhidden beneath the backwards baseball hat -- showed the sort of panicked, tender desperation one can only know while going through high school. And especially high school at this time of year -- with the whole weight of the rest of the year bearing down, just like the threatening clouds that kept misting us as we passed them and burned up the hill toward the next grove of shedding trees, the whole time thinking about how much farther my knee would allow this to go on.
