“Moonlight through the pines.” I think that’s the phrase from the classic song by Ray Charles, “Georgia On My Mind.”

On the trail this morning, no clouds. Just lots of humidity, the sounds of birds, the mechanical buzz and hum of vehicular wheels on asphalt, a very slight breeze, and moonlight through the pines.

My legs ached, my lungs were burning, and I found myself longing to be a younger man when hills and sprints didn’t hurt so much. Alas, time runs one way and my knees know it.

But I do not think I could improve upon Spring, as fecund soils erupt in colors, and turkeys descend from their roosts and dig in the dirt, and the deer forage in the open areas, alert to us soldiers long before we spot them.

The sun will be visible in a few moments now and the sounds of business will remove these images and sounds from our attention, and be replaced with protocol, but this snatch of time will sustain some souls’ desire for aesthetics amidst it all.