The Mountain Breeze

The day woke me. This morning, I relaxed outside on this deck bundled up in my pink comforter and watched the sun rise. Then, I made a hot mug of coffee, went back to my spot, and waited for the day to begin.

There’s something different about the air up here on the mountain. There truly is just something about the mountain air. It’s crisper. It’s fresher. It’s addictive. I’ve been to mountains before. I know this about the air. But, every time I’m surprised at just how fresh it feels. How one breath can take away a mass of troubles for the moment.

This morning, I noticed the birds. One hawk and a variety of smaller, brown feathered friends. I wondered at their calm – at how they seemed to gracefully go about their business. I took a moment and marveled at the breeze, then wondered at the sun. There is absolutely no way that the sunrise could paint the world in this quiet orange every day. There’s no way that the birds could be this calm – diving in lazy circles around the trees.


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