Now that I’m running again, I’ve started going to the park at sunrise.
I had forgotten how beautiful it is.
The outside world doesn’t exist.
And the park is an underwater dream world.
How is this even possible?
Like our democracy, the sick elm tree is barely hanging on.
It seems like we are on a path.
But we are also at crossroads in this path.
I worry that we are making the wrong choice.
