I'm thinking about the slightly soapy appearance of the water, the moss and the occasional beer can and feeling bad about the creek, when all of a sudden a group of a dozen trout split up in all directions and dart away when they saw me approach the shore. So I'm standing there watching them swim around, and a muskrat breaks above the water and makes a dash for its burrow right in front of my feet.
So much for pitying the creek.
We got out of work late, so I had about 45 minutes of daylight left, and I beat a path to Ralston Creek.
Something I found interesting in the next photo after I got home is the lowest branch of the flowering tree on the right. Notice that it follows the terrain, maybe a foot above the ground, almost perfectly. Imagine a time-lapse video of that growth; it would be almost like the branch was sliding along a glass table above the grass.
About 1/2 of my run was in the dark by headlamp, and a toad jumped out of my path in the dark near Tucker Lake, and patiently waited for me to go away, apparently trying to blend in to the flat concrete with its mismatched camouflage:
"Dammit, how can he see me?"
I've always liked toads, even though they peed on my hand as a kid when I picked them up. Not the most powerful defense against a relative giant grasping you, but I got the point... yet promptly ignored it. I was a kid.
Run distance was 10.01 miles, time 1:40, and elevation gain/loss 338 feet.