Running/Romanticizing Wash Park

There's a bizarre weather phenomenon that only seems to happen when the weather's hot, the sun's going down, and there's a motley cloud collection in the sky. These clouds are not just thunderstorm clouds. They're not just fluffy white Nimbys. They're not anemic wispy things. They cannot just be some etherial Michelangelo-inspired dream. Everywhere you look the sky is different and when you aren't looking at the sky at all, when you stare at the green trees and the green grass around you, at the pavement beneath your feet as you run, at the water as the geese splash around in it, you realize that everything looks a little...red. And not a sinister red. A sepia red. A red that washes over the land, romanticizing everything in its path. No rose-colored glasses necessary. There's a timeless quality to the world.

I'm sure the endorphins coursing through my blood stream are partly responsible for my current state of euphoria, but I can't help that the beautiful summer evening I just witnessed (and yes, I know it's spring, but really when it's 80 out at 7:30 and you experience the weather phenomenon I just experienced, you'd know the soul of today was a summer soul) put me in a blissful state of wonderment.

For those of you who know about waiting for magic, attempting a fresh start, lounging in the bitter barn, and listening to the Conscious Conscience, this might have you wondering, just how many blogs does one Dana need? I don't know, but I may never run out of themes. So here you go. My devotion to living life as an adventure and how the bizarre dichotomies of life make it all the more exciting.