When Alison works as a nurse at the hospital, I drive her over sometime between 6:15 and 6:30 am. During quite a bit of the year, it is dark at that time – we are so far west in the Eastern Time Zone, dontcha know. When the snow is melting off the grass and fields and the landscape blends with the grey of asphalt, everything is dark. And when the sky is like coal, it is very dark.

When Alison works and I take her, I am doing a routine thing; I am not driving to the hospital because I am bringing someone ill there or because I have been summoned because someone I care about has been brought there. I keep in the back of my mind the fact that  people in other cars may be doing just that and that their minds may be distracted by distress and worry. I pay attention .For someone this morning, it was lucky that is the case.

All this happened in a fraction of a second – I saw movement and thought paper in the wind? an animal very close to the ground? Oh, my gosh, it’s a jogger! Just then Alison exclaimed, “Is that someone running?! What a fool!”

Yes, it was. In all dark clothing and athletic shoes that were not at all reflective or noticeable, a man was jogging and crossing in front of me. I did not hit him. But I barely saw him. It was so dark when I passed him, I could not make out anything other that he was tall and covered in dark clothing. He ran with arms bent at the elbows and held up by his chest.

After I had made the loop to drop Alison off, I passed him again on my way back.  I tried to see him – to see the look on his face – but it was too dark. I barely saw him running so very close to my car.

I imagine he will be at it tomorrow as well, at least this tomorrow.