And then came the sun

I ran another half marathon last weekend, this one benefiting our local Down syndrome group.  I've told anyone who asked that it was a terrible race - I hit a wall about mile 8, my legs felt like wood, and it was snowing.  Despite a much flatter course and bonafide training I finished a full half hour slower than last year.

But the first half of the race was beautiful.  The race wound thru some old neighborhoods with massive trees in full spring bloom.  The flowers clashed with the dark winter sky and the snow was falling soft and heavy.

It was magical.  But it suddenly occurred to me that the snow would kill off the blossoms.  Mutually exclusive acts of nature.  And my face crumpled into an ugly cry right there in the middle of the street as I thought this magical thing that I had wrought might be taken early by the very same, mutually occurring thing that makes her beautiful.

It is quite likely I was simply hypothermic and hypoglycemic.  But the memory of the snow on the flowering trees has stayed with me...  as has the fact that the snow was melting by the time I got home.  The flowers survived.  Comfort can be found in the strangest corners.