It is late fall, so there are no leaves on the trees. There is a dusting of snow, and I can see that there were a couple of mountain bikes on the trails earlier. But there is no one in the woods now. I know that, because I can see deep, deep into the woods, through the empty trees.
I run, hard. It is very cold. My face is numb. There’s a brisk wind, and it cuts through my clothes. So I pick up my pace again. I begin to flush with warmth.
I do not have that strained watchfulness that I must maintain when I run in the spring and the summer, eyes scanning the dense brush, constantly, for any human form. Any man. Danger.
I just run.
At this moment, I am free.