Bonum Cursum

Today we celebrated the Teacher’s Day run, which takes place every year on October 14th. The morning was cool but bright, the kind of air that carries both the chill of approaching winter and the soft warmth of autumn light. We gathered in the town park, one of the most beautiful spots around, where the trees were already turning shades of gold, copper, and red. Fallen leaves covered the paths like a soft carpet, and as we ran, they rustled under our feet, mixing the rhythm of our breath with the quiet whisper of the season.

After the run, we stayed for a while, just walking slowly and talking. The whole park looked like a painting, calm ponds reflecting the trees, families strolling, and that peaceful joy that only early autumn can bring. There was something nostalgic in the air, and I couldn’t help thinking about the years that have passed since school and how much those days still mean to me.

P.S. I still remember all my teachers so clearly, even though I finished my studies more than 15 years ago. Each of them left a small mark on who I became. And of course, I remember our winter adventures back in college.