Breaking trail in the pre-dawn light, I couldn’t help but feel the magic of the mountain - the magic only found on Mt. LeConte. Traveling up the trail was a slow and methodical task; the light at the end of the tunnel lured me further up the trail. The same smile from yesterday was back with rising sun.
Taking a sip of coffee, I watched as the dark brew’s warm chocolate notes drifted toward the horizon. My mind wandered to today’s agenda. After post-holing down the mountain, I’ll sniff out an omelet before exploring the aisles at Publix. This short tour back to the ‘real-world’ should have me ready for another Christmas tucked away in the high country.
“I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.” Walt Whitman