"Aint it funny how the night moves..."

...is a line from an old Bob Segar song, followed by "when you just don't seem to have that much to lose." I seemed to have been hearing that the other day; the net result is that I decided to go for a run at nine o'clock in the evening, something (running at night) I hadn't done in awhile. By the time I was half a block down the road the life blood in me came rushing back to the fore, and the trials of this thing called life seemed once again to be just that, trials. And out there in the dark a smile spread across my face, 'tis but a dream anyway isn't it?' I looped the lake at Carolina Beach, guided by the faint glow of the lights that encircle the pathway and reflect softly atop the fresh waters. Then on past the elementary school and into the silent dark night of small town America. A calico cat suddenly appeared in a front lawn, it looked at me as if to say "ah ha mister! what per chance are ye doing out here amongst the critters of the night?" I just nod and wink and carry on my merry way. Everything seems to slow down the faster I run. This (the run) makes sense, perhaps nothing else that happened earlier in the day did. The road has a wonderful way of just not giving a damn why I am here, it doesnt care at all about love, money, religion, politics...none of that. And at times that's precisely the very thing that I am looking for, at least for an hour or so in the day. I ended my run on the beach. There was no moon, just a few distant stars way way up like miniscule golden dots in the sky. One of those nights when you have to almost strain a little to see the terrain of the sand ten feet in front. Where the ocean runs out and melts into the inky jet black sky, and it all almost looks a bit menacing. When realizations can jump up and almost sting me like a blast of salty air... that yes we all in fact have a hell of a lot to lose.