Rise.

Sneaker treads lick the concrete sidewalk in early morning blackness.  The dark season is rapidly approaching and no longer do my morning runs begin in early glimmers of daylight; they begin in darkness.  Through the black haze, the tops of the boats, fewer in number these days, bob in the harbor, not greeting me cheerily as they had been a few months ago, but sleepy, quiet, slower, preparing for hibernation.  On the horizon, the lighthouse signal blinks as an alarm clock to the morning sky, and shyly a single purple and orange stripe begins to flicker and glow to outline the tips of the various harbor islands. 

Progress.

Each footfall and breath and movement causes a little more light, a little more color, a little more substance and vibrancy, until finally the dark mist transforms itself into this glowing mist of orange and pink; robes of the great, bright magenta king-orb that presides just over the island tops.  Shapes emerge through the mist, busy activity of boats bobbing and moving; mostly bustling off to important places to do important things, while two giant edifice outlines of luxury cruise liners lumber across the watery chessboard into port; the elephants of the morning. 

What struck me the most were the birds. 

Normally the birds in the morning, gulls mostly, are occupied with assisting the harbor staff with cleaning up the various litter that was scattered the evening prior about the picnic area.  However, there were not many in number this morning; a sure sign that fall has arrived when the tourists abandon this space to return to their lives elsewhere.  However, the birds this morning were of a different flock and on a mission in the sky rather than land; a giant V-shaped formation slicing through the colors adrift in the morning clouds, flying south for impending winter. 

The annual flight phenomenon of birds moving southward for winter has been a long studied entity, but few know the answer as to why they do this.  Why exactly are they covering thousands of miles?  What is inside of them that is causing them to do this?  What is this driving force?  And for that brief moment I smiled and chuckled to myself, because I could very well have asked myself that exact same question in that morning moment.  Why am I covering all of these miles?  What is this driving force?  I'm not flying south though, I'm running in circles actually, almost as if to remain in my own space and time until the answer becomes evident and running points me elsewhere. 

I wish I knew the full answer, but I am also satisfied and secure in not knowing.  I'm enjoying this journey, despite it being a brightly wrapped present, contents unknown but anticipated, crowned with a ribbon bow.  I'm enjoying the surprises and and the pitfalls and shaking the box to listen for noises; whatever they mean or when I get to tear off the paper eventually.  However, I know it is positive and honest and noble, and it's causing me to cover miles and miles and miles until I figure it all out.  Or not.  Or finally get chased down by that other elusive wild animal.  It's all a giant unknown, and sometimes there is a strange simple progress within unknowns.  Not everything needs a clear answer and maybe the simple purpose behind it all  for the time being is to just enjoy this moment of living and loving and anticipating, and other types of living and loving will eventually become clear to me, not unlike the progress of the sunrise becoming more evident with every thirsty breath.