An Amazing Display of Nature

The alarm jars me from a deep sleep where I was dreaming of a world filled with limitless Snickers bars. It's 4:30 a.m. I’m supposed to get up and go for my daily run. Wrigley, my 45 lb. border collie, stands over me and nudges my arm as a reminder that it's also his time to be let outside and then fed. But I’m not sure I want to get up for my run this morning. Yes, it’s early and I need to run, but it’s really nice here in bed. Plus, I want to get back to those dreamy Snicker bars!
Nevertheless, I climb out of bed, put on my glasses, and walk Wrigley to the front door. It's a great morning. The air is cool, and there is a slight breeze from the east. No moon, though, so it's very dark, especially since there's also cloud cover - so no stars either. Still, it’s perfect for today's run. Wrigley returns and we head back inside and directly to his food dish where he waits patiently to be fed.
While Wrigley eats, I head to the closet to get dressed for my run. Since it's cool outside, I choose a lightweight long-sleeve white running shirt and my blue shorts. After lacing up my red and gray New Balance running shoes, I clip my yellow flashing light to my shirt (this is thumb-size safety light that warns drivers that I'm on the road, too). Wrigley's done with breakfast and waits patiently for me at the door. He knows I'm heading out for a run, and he wants to join me. Unfortunately, today's not his day. I'm on my own.
I was right. It's cool outside, and very, very dark. I'm glad I have the long-sleeve shirt. However, it’s pretty tough to see what’s around. Luckily, my neighbors have lampposts to light my way. But once I reach the end of my subdivision, I hit the county roads where I know it will be tough to see the road ahead.
I turn east onto 250 South for about a quarter mile before I head north onto 675 West. Now it’s dark. No houses, no lampposts, no moon or stars. The sun, however, is just starting to create a sliver of orange to the east. Still, it’s tough to see. Along this stretch of road it’s very quiet. The only sounds I hear are my footfalls on the pavement and the slight breeze rustling the rows of corn along both sides of the road.
My mind begins to wander away from this workout as I begin concentrating on my day ahead. I start to think of all of the things I need to do: mow the lawn, wash the truck, treat the pool, weedeat the ditch, and take Kyra to the park. Lots to do. What first? How long will the mowing take?
Off in the distance a few coyotes begin howling their eerie calls to each other. Are they close by? It’s hard to tell. I keep running. My mind again fades back to my plans for the day. Do I have the supplies I need to wash my truck? Is there more chlorine for the pool? Will it be too hot to go to the park?
Suddenly, to my left, there’s a rustling of corn ahead of me. My eyes struggle to capture the shadows that begin to prance out of the tall stalks and bound across the road right in front of me. My focus adjusts. Deer.
The howls of the coyotes now sound closer. I stop. More deer continue to move from left to right, across my field of view, right in front of me. I could reach out and feel their soft fur if I weren’t so shocked by their boldness to dash out in front of me. However, I realize the fear of those coyote howls is greater than the fear of me standing there in the middle of the road breathing hard.
After 15 seconds, the scene ends. At least a dozen deer displayed a unique performance of nature right in front of me. I feel like an audience member in the front row of a theatre at the end of a great scene. I wish my daughter could have been with me to witness this amazing display of nature. I continue with my run as the sun continues to make its way over the horizon, thankful that I decided to get up for my run.