This is the way of morning light. Walk toward it.

Ahead, the low sun rises over the marshland that spreads under the trees edging the Charles. Cattails are fluffing, ferns are browning, fall is running its wildness in muck and brush. This leg of the trail dead ends here, facing the river on the other side of the trees. Approaching, from this direction, heading east, I must choose. Go left, across the narrow patch of solid ground separating the marsh. This is a long way back home through acres of wooded trails. Turn right, and there's a choice of slopes to climb: A rockier way - massive boulders stud the shoulders of the trail winding up around them. A gentler way, more like a narrow dirt road, a more direct route. This morning, time falls short, I take the way of breath, step. Breath, step. Breath, step. Breath