I was taking my (more or less, if I am to be honest) daily jog around the park this morning in a more contemplative mood than usual, concerned simply with moving rather than keeping tabs on pace or distance, so for the first time in my many months of being here (last summer included), I detoured along one of the paths that cuts through a more central area of the park rather than maintaining the well-worn circuit (where I know every lap is approximately a mile). There, right in the center of the park, settled purposefully atop the crest - it's a hilly park after all - was a giant tower. Lookout tower, so it seemed. 50 cent for anyone over 14 to go up on a Saturday or a Sunday. I had no idea. All this time, I had no idea. I don't know how many times I've circled the pillar (granted, many of those times were closer to dusk where a structure shrouded as it is by trees would be much less noticeable, but still). I can't say why it struck me the way that it did, perhaps that silly contemplation.
Anyway, the other main thing I drew from this morning while really stretching my legs down the steepest incline and letting my momentum carry me, the fresh breeze strong in my face, deep lungfulls of air, they all brought it back particularly sharp: I need to get on a horse again. Soon. I think I'll be looking into that more thoroughly in the coming days.
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