An Angry Fix

Late February and it is still raining. My hip has flared up and hurts and here I am tucked in off Avery Creek Rd. getting ready to run and feeling like a junky yet again. My escape to Panama was ever so fleeting and this is my only way to get away for now.  Phish killed it in Mexico last night and this is my way to set my soul free, however temporal that relief may be.  A lone car joins me at the trailhead and an old man prepares to hike in the rain. He looks at me through the rain with a look that asks: "Are we really going to do this?". Of course we are, my glance tells him. Later we will pass on the trail after the rain has stopped but there isn't much to say, it is a solitary sort of day. My route takes me to the waterfalls because every journey needs a destination. Come August this twin pair of falls could be almost dry but for now they are raging and for now, mine alone.