Thursday, February 20, 2003

I went to the gym

I went to the gym last night, an activity towards which I am significantly disinclined but which I endure occasionally regardless.  The gym is at the far corner of a national park three blocks from my house.  The drive there and back is quick - highway 1, nearly a straight shot.  But last night I took a different route home, a more interesting route.  I was flushed and glowing from my exertions.  I passed the Officers’ Club, shimmering with light and revelry in the darkness, and the National (and pets’) Cemetary, at stoic attention into eternity.  And then I headed back to the steep hill that drops back down to my neighborhood (ROTC at SFU call it “Cardiac Hill").  As I descended, a being ran out in front of me, turned on a dime in the middle of the street, and went back whence it came, ears pointed and erect, tail held straight out.  A good-sized red fox.  My lats and pecs were sore and achy from the abuse I’d heaped on them, in a lurid room full of sweaty people.  And there’s a fox: lithe, lean with a hunter’s hunger.  Quick, as the saying goes.  Living in nocturnal darkness, possessing earth and time as I have almost given up trying to do myself.  Today, less sore, not glowing, I think back on that fox and its life in my city.  I’m not sure what to take away from our little encounter but it’s sticking with me.