As I was nearing the end of my long run tonight I was simultaneously coming to the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Loaded onto my iPod were the sound files from the BBC production of that C.S. Lewis classic. I listened as I ran all this week. But then tonight, just as the sky in front of me began to glow with a magnificent magenta sunset, I came to the part of the story where the Stone Table was shattered, Lucy and Susan looked out over Cair Paravel, the red in the heavens turned gold along the line where the sea and the sky met, and Aslan roared to life again. The girls began to run with the great lion--but they were not sure "whether it was more like playing with a thunderstorm or playing with a kitten." I noticed my pace picking up. My spirits soared. It was one of those seredipitous moments that only rarely come. It was most glorious--and most welcome.
