I love fall. And, of course, spring too. I love the seasons in which nature is quickly changing. In only a few days, we could miss it all. Today during my run along the Seine, the tree-lined path had small piles of leaves on each side. The trees, which were full of leaves only a few days ago, were almost barren. The wind and rain swept the remaining leaves off the branches and onto the path below.
The part of the Seine that I run along side of is in the outskirts of Paris. After making its way through Paris, it heads to northern France and curves past a park near our home. It’s a wonderful place to run because it is peaceful yet near the city. There are many reminders that Paris is not far: the long lines of cars on the other side of the river and stray metro tickets left behind on the path.
The colors in fall are lovely. The leaves on the vines creeping up the wall of the stairs have turned a bright red and those on the trees are yellow and orange while the ones that have fallen a warm brown.
This morning the sky was a light grey and rain was falling down quite steadily. I enjoyed the smell of the wet leaves in the crisp air as I ran underneath the trees. Once in a while, I saw a leaf fall from the tree and float to the ground.
I ran past only a few other people, which is normal during the week. Over the weekend, there are more people running in groups but today everyone was running alone. The fewer people there are, the more likely a person greets me as we pass each other along the path. It’s almost as if the more people there are, the less we distinguish others
After my run, I stretched along the railing above the Seine and watched a boat go by. The brownish water swirled around and took with it dead leaves and branches. I read somewhere that the name of the Seine river might mean “sacred river.” It doesn’t surprise me because there is something magical about the Seine that I can sense when I am near it. During a weekday run, I get to be alone with the trees in the park and the Seine.
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