Summer holidays are receding and the remaining days of the season are few enough to count on our fingers and toes.

Bea is back, and as we did last year, we’re running together. The Tan track, almost 4 kms around, and a choice of coffee vendors after the finish line. Walking, running, just enough exertion before the pleasure of recovery.

We occasionally pass others on the track, more often they pass us. This morning I caught a sentence as we overtook a slower party ” …asked if I had an analogy for my depression. I said I did. It is like a big hole. My depression is a big hole that….”

Her voice didn’t trail off. I moved ahead of hearing, out running the tale.

I heard her, believed her, not that it occurred to me to do other than believe her.

I trust her audience nodded with understanding, even if not familiar with the cavernous type of hole being described.