Good morning,
It’s currently 40 degrees, partly cloudy with low winds and a chance of minestrone. There are still signs of snow in the dark corners of the mountain but with warming temperatures, that will continue to change. There is still lingering ice on the trail in the higher elevations.
24 hour temperature range | High: 50 Low: 31
--
The smell of warm butter and fresh preserves pulls me away from the computer. Staring at the plate of homemade biscuits, I wondered if I’d ever make it back to the glowing screen. Would the blog ever get done? Fresh eggs scrambled with gruyere and spinach joined my warm companions - I’d make it back to my computer, just not yet.
Well into my breakfast, I pause and let my thoughts rest on the sunrise. Tucked behind a curtain of clouds, the sun never made the stage. Ready for the moment, grapefruit streaks of pre-dawn light danced high in the atmosphere, stealing the show. I come back to the golden scramble waiting patiently on the tip of my fork…
…a fitting encore.
Onward,
Seth
It’s currently 40 degrees, partly cloudy with low winds and a chance of minestrone. There are still signs of snow in the dark corners of the mountain but with warming temperatures, that will continue to change. There is still lingering ice on the trail in the higher elevations.
24 hour temperature range | High: 50 Low: 31
--
The smell of warm butter and fresh preserves pulls me away from the computer. Staring at the plate of homemade biscuits, I wondered if I’d ever make it back to the glowing screen. Would the blog ever get done? Fresh eggs scrambled with gruyere and spinach joined my warm companions - I’d make it back to my computer, just not yet.
Well into my breakfast, I pause and let my thoughts rest on the sunrise. Tucked behind a curtain of clouds, the sun never made the stage. Ready for the moment, grapefruit streaks of pre-dawn light danced high in the atmosphere, stealing the show. I come back to the golden scramble waiting patiently on the tip of my fork…
…a fitting encore.
Onward,
Seth
“We plan, we toil, we suffer -- in the hope of what?
A camel-load of idol's eyes?
The title deeds of Radio City?
The empire of Asia?
A trip to the moon?
No, no, no, no. Simply to wake up just in time to smell coffee and bacon and eggs. And, again I cry, how rarely it happens! But when it does happen -- then what a moment, what a morning, what a delight!”
J. B. Priestley
A camel-load of idol's eyes?
The title deeds of Radio City?
The empire of Asia?
A trip to the moon?
No, no, no, no. Simply to wake up just in time to smell coffee and bacon and eggs. And, again I cry, how rarely it happens! But when it does happen -- then what a moment, what a morning, what a delight!”
J. B. Priestley
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