Running

I try to run for about an hour every day. I know, well, ok, I thought I knew my way around; a-hem, I can see the way, but that doesn't mean the path is clear and that goes for the twisting maze of stone streets on the hill and the roads below that meander through patch-work squares and rectangles of agriculture. I found myself "stuck" the other day. I ran down the east side of the dry canal rather than the west and could not get across --  how many wrong turns can I make, I thought and it turned out to be many. Fortunately, like life, I made some turns that took me where I needed to go and I found my way. The photos below are a portion of the path as well as the run-tree. Every run I seek out a tree to stop for a few moments and stretch. I have many favorites at Mt. Tabor and a number scattered on paths I have traveled.