3pm and on, and that lack of mental breath after a long motionless run. Watching others repeating shared experiences, relearning things already learnt before. Indifferently numb. The brightness of the day like behind a veil. Attention slowly derailed. Focusing on on mere body mechanics. Outlining horizons with eye and mind.
4pm and on, changing moods and places. Not sure what's more challenging - climbing steep rocks or wading through knee-deep sand. A summer and its heat put onto the neighbourhood like a thick, heavy blanket. Tourists and school kids running into each other near the train station, an endless flow of huge cars passing by, and the construction site nearby slowly shutting down for today. Pondering well-defined schedules, clouds, achievements. And the edgeless shapes of clouds.
4pm and on, in a constant rush. Worlds and worlds behind sunglasses, racing with the clouds and the shadows: A vast multicoloured texture, hard to spot details and nuances but fairly overwhelmed by its magnitude. Letting pulse settle and then soar again. Until these familiar treelines cross horizons and the day dresses in evening once more.
4pm and on. Status updated, but only a bit. Sometimes attention gets stuck on things that went unnoticed for month and all of a sudden it's surprising how this even was possible. Adding comments to long logs. Summing up hours. And watching the flights of birds, dark under a bright white sky. Halfway out there already.
4pm and on. On the road. Noticing clouds veiling the sun, or sun piercing through clouds, not sure which way things are heading and who's been there first. Also: The never-changing mood of roadside attractions. Details that usually go unseen. Details that form a world of its own. Including, but not limited to dry thistles. Broken bottles. Stones.