and catch the last weekend of the last week.
before the gold and the glimmer have been replaced.
another sun soaked season fades away.
-dashboard confessional
sun breaks through the canopy, casting a collage of light and shadows on the trail. padded beneath my feet. fallen leaves and pine straw. the smell of damp earth. i run through the woods. charging hills. heart pumping. chest burning from the chill in the air. scamper to the top. bound down the far side. a run. not a race. i win just because i got outside. the soundtrack playing in my ears. this is what today sounds like.
solsbury hill-peter gabriel
the time of times-badly drawn boy
out of range-ani difranco
stolen-dashboard confessional
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