The leaves sing around her ankles.
I love how she runs with abandon. She doesn’t care how she looks. She doesn’t care if her hair is styled or even if it’s brushed. She doesn’t care if her pants are too tight or too loose or too pink. She just runs.
Her legs pump fast and her Dora socks slip down and I stand back at the bottom of the side walk and watch.
The last of the afternoon sun is burning up the sky around her as she burns down that track.
She runs because it fills her up. Fills her with joy and laughter and exhilaration. Because she knows the Truth. She runs because she loves her body and how strong her new, just two-year-old legs are. She runs because she can. Not because she must or because she’s worried about what she ate last night.
She runs because she still remembers how to celebrate being alive. Rather than to measure it, discipline it, absorb it.
She runs and her curls bounce and the leaves are racing up the road behind her.
She’s looking at me over her shoulder and yelling, “Run mama, come on, let’s run!”
I spread my arms and run beside her until we are flying.
This post was written in just five minutes. With no editing. It’s part of what we call Five Minute Fridays. An invitation to write like we used to run – with abandon.
Everyone welcome. Details on how to participate all over here.
And for the artists? The painters, the sketchers, the sculptors? Last week Mavis invited you all to a 15 minute Friday drawing challenge. Love this idea so much!