Where I currently live is tucked into a hillside. Literally. While I find preemptive relief knowing that my bedroom will be the safest place during a tornado, it means I have no easy access to running trails. I wasn't exactly sure where I would wind up this morning, but I had do go somewhere. I found that somewhere 8.3 miles down the road.
As I tooled down the road looking for someplace suitable, I saw a road with a bridge that led to an island or peninsula-type landmass. I turned onto that gravel road and found myself in Cross Creeks National Wildlide Refuge.
|The bridge beckoned me to cross. I am glad I did.|
|The winding road along the river seemed to stretch for an eternity.|
|The sun attempted to burn through the clouds at one point.|
It did not make it through; rather its light provided a warm glow through the trees.