Running shoes carry me from the back door, left turn at the street, right turn onto the path.
Packed black asphalt, four feet wide, winding through trees. The mountain comes into view, sun reflecting off snow covered sides. Water bubbles through the fountain in the pond.
Winding left, the woods surround me. Critters scurry across it and birds float among the trees. When I get to the end, I smell the salty air.
Path.
