Woke to the great mystery of trees in fog, so breathtakingly beautiful I felt the need to be out in it, wandering. So I put on shoes and went for a run and thought, now why don't I do this every morning, which what one's head always says while one is running very very slowly, walking actually, or sauntering with a warm cloud for one's breath below the crows who fill the trees with the sounds of their wings and are dark shadows lifing in the mist in a terrible rush.
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