Completely Taken With The View

While plodding along on my run, I clocked the dog up ahead.

It noticed me, too, but its owner hadn't. He was a big dude wearing sunglasses and a short beard standing off to the side of the path just... looking up. At what, I wasn't sure. But it was an absolutely spectacular sunset, so perhaps he was just soaking the whole thing in. That's what I'd been doing, anyway. The lake was glass and the sky was perfectly clear. The Adirondack Mountains on the opposite shore were silhouetted in various shades of purple, gray and green.

"On your left" I said more as a courtesy to the dog.

I've been chased down by a dog before while running—I'd back-pedaled into traffic to try and get away until I tripped and fell. After that, the dog had lunged for my neck and if the owner hadn't grabbed it at the last second, it would've succeeded. I'm not keen to repeat the experience, so I make a habit of announcing myself early and often.

The owner finally noticed me.

Turning toward me with a smile, they said "beautiful place to run, huh?"

"Sure is" I said back.

"Even with the sewage treatment plant here!" they called after me.

I got a chuckle out of that. The building behind them was indeed the treatment plant. And it smelled like total shit. Yet, they chose to stare out at the water—completely taken with the view.

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Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
208/365

When's the last time you knowingly chose the good over the bad?

onward.

For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.