Wandered the streets of Portland behind S and her friend E, each with a baby strapped to their bellies. They talked about mom things and I daydreamed and noticed figs, a bird nest, Asian pears fallen unharvested from a tree, a fuzzy melon, squirrels, tiny acorns, unknown flowers, the red edges of a white rose's petals, yarrow blooming from a lawn. I thought, "this counts as training for the half-marathon, right?"
To dream is to prepare yourself for the marathon of life. Every step we take, every beat of our heart, every thought in our head is a step toward that great immensity that waits for us...
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