I cut my running teeth on the trails that border, and cross the Botanical Gardens in Chapel Hill. I thought I knew every inch of trail, but today I took an unmarked turn -  down the ridge - along Morgan Creek, and deep into the woods to find a breathtaking detour...the lighting was soft, the sun gentle, and a breeze stirred the leaves. All along the way signs of spring unfurling, waking, being reborn. I chanced upon a field of daffodils off the main path.

The trail abruptly ended at Morgan Creek, but an irrigation pipe was broad enough to do a bit of tight-rope walking, and on the other side another mile of forest magic.

It's rained most of the past week, and the low lying trails are still a mushy quagmire...not that mud every deterred this runner! Can't help but pull out e.e. cummings' poem this time of year..next time you land in a mud puddle up to your laces embrace your "mud-luscious" runner self, and bask in this "puddle-wonderful" springtime.

*****

in Just-

spring          

when the world is mud-

luscious

...it's

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

-e.e. cummings