The Sights of Corvallis
On Sunday morning I went running at 7. I ran through our little down town, which isn’t much more than a few streets lined with little shops. I ran past the coffee shop, and looked in the bright windows as I passed, catching a glimpse of the other early birds. I ran past the bakery, which always smells like sweet bread, and has up-turned chairs on all the tables. I ran north along the river, under the bridge, to the edge of town- it was misty over the water, and the sun was just starting to shine through the dense clouds. There were shafts of light coming over the roof of the boat house, highlighting the masts of the boats and the tops of the trees. It was a beautiful sight to behold, made more beautiful by the knowledge that I alone was bearing witness. I turned back towards town, my lungs full of fresh, clean air, and I was content.