The Mountain

After days of snow.

I wake up, open the curtains, and see the sky; light blue, barely different from the snow shade on the mountainside.

The east face starts to wake as gold and brilliant white patches emerge on the summit. Gradually they descend, ledge by ledge, golden light and golden white.

I'm excited.

Now, closer to me a new face emerges. The mountain is alive.  I watch as the light descends and dances between the trees.

I must climb the mountain.


Rest well