Near the top of the main hill of the morning's run, scattered slides along the road, some bordered in red, some in their natural white. Seems that someone was getting rid of them and they ended up, as per usual, scattered and soaked. Not much light this morning, but I was able to pick one up and take a look: kids playing in the front yard of the house across the street from where I found them in that familiar 70s-80s warmth. The old man who lived there died a few months back and an estate sale yielded no new owners (or maybe it did); I remember him sitting on a lawnchair with his little white dog and waving to me as I ran past almost every day for several years until gradually he came out with a walker and then he stopped coming out at all.