So Many Stars

We have lived in our “new” house/community for almost a year now, and I have often bragged to others about how quiet, dark and clean it is. How everyone is friendly and waves hello, how people take care of their pets, pet waste, and feed and water the birds. We walk to and from the fitness facilities, have our favorite walking/running/cycling routes established, and continue to explore and add to them. In the early mornings the Milky Way is visible as there is little ambient light, and we often see shooting stars from the corner of our eyes as we make our way around the golf course or “loop” road. I sometimes say “Hi” to Frank, John, or Eloise out loud, making up a game that this is a way to communicate with lost loved ones, and they in turn, are telling me everything is OK.

When I run my 3.2 before work a couple days a week I am pretty much alone, save for the paper delivery cars or maybe a golf cart or two headed up to the gym or pool. I am able to hear the vehicles from quite a distance as sound travels long distance here when it happens because of the surrounding quiet.

Normally I gauge my running route where there isn’t a hint of traffic or a person walking their dog. I bounce back and forth across the street just by “feel” or by headlights headed towards or in back of me. Normally I run facing traffic and jump up on the sidewalk if there happens to be any cars. I may see two or three on any given morning.

It’s been over a month, and I still mull about what exactly happened that morning in my head, as it could have been then end. Of a couple of us.

I was running with traffic, looking at the fading stars, noticing a tinge of pink/blue on the east horizon was happening earlier and earlier with the summer approaching. I checked my watch and it was a little after 5 a.m. I heard the truck before I saw it, and it seemed to be picking up speed as it approached. I got out of the bike lane and jumped up onto the dirt alongside the road. Luckily I didn’t cross over to the other side and jump up on the sidewalk, because that’s exactly what the Dodge Ram ended up doing. It went left, completely crossed the road, jumped the curb, took out about 12 feet of railing and came to a stop at the edge of a wash with a large boulder wedged under it’s front end. I stopped, hoping that someone wasn’t hurt badly, and finally breathed a sigh of relief when the guy opened the driver’s door. He was bleeding from his hand a little and couldn’t find his cell phone. He seemed really confused and I was afraid he had hit his head. A neighbor had heard the commotion, and came out to talk to the driver who apparently fell asleep at the wheel. I personally believe he may have had a slight stroke or heart attack. I explained to the gentleman that helped call paramedics that I still had to run home and get ready for work. Shaken, I cried a bit telling my husband the events of the morning. The truck had crossed right where I normally run. Facing traffic. On the sidewalk. Thankfully there were two less shooting stars the next morning.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “So Many Stars

  1. What a terrifying and traumatic experience. I know you weren’t in the accident, but sometimes witnessing something can evoke the same trauma response in our brains ( I witnessed the Boston Bombing) I had to study about PTSD because I was very confused why I was having such trouble after what happened. I still react very strong to loud noises and become depressed a few days later after witnessing accidents. I hope your doing okay. Why do I feel like we would be close friends if we lived close? I love and cherish all of your thoughtful comments on my site– I feel that connection. xoxo

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s