A Chilly Morning

Snowflakes sparkle and fall heavy, leaving little wet blotches on my sleeves. The familiar crunch of a fellow hiker’s foot steps pierces through the otherwise silent morning. My headlamp shines brightly, and the snow dances with the light, shimmering and beckoning us on. My breath freezes against my cheeks as we push forward and the sun starts to kiss the sky. Oranges, pinks and yellows dance over the sloping peaks and valleys of the mountains, cutting through the chilled morning air; telling us to quicken our pace. I breath deeply, this is where I belong. My toes scream from the cold, and my fingers are numb; yet my core is warm and my spirit’s high.
He trudges on in front of me, creating a packed path in the newly fallen snow, as we move through the woods. We enjoy the stillness of an early morning, together. Not a soul on the trail, other than the two of us and the occasional playful chipmunk.  As we rise above the trees, to touch the sky we embrace a cool breeze. There we watch the sun play with the mountains, awaiting its warm rays, as we enjoy solitude and inner-stillness that only the mountains can give us.