You are a little soul carrying about a corpse, as Epictetus used to say. Marcus Aurelius
It's another gorgeous, slow developing morning on the mountain. It feels like it's been that grim, grey predawn for a few hours. The high yesterday reached 37 degrees. The overnight low hit 21 degrees. It's currrently 22 degrees and clear at 7am observation. There is still a trace of snow left up top. It's been pretty cold, so I doubt that the ice has gotten much better over the past few days. I'm sure there will be some tricky spots on the trails. Be prepared & enjoy!
I hauled out my sleeping bag, pad and a thermos of coffee to a little spot I've dubbed 'Bobcat Junction'. I've seen a lot of spots of scat around there and some tracks back when the mountain had a bit of snow. I was hoping that Santa was delivering my present a little late. I sat there just listening, fending off cold by flexing my fingers and toes rhythmically, breathing quietly, so quietly it strangely feels loud, doing my best to focus on my five senses, honing them to razor sharpness like a hunter. It's amazing how much you can notice when you focus on the world and deliberately stop thinking, dropping outer thoughts like an old life. Sensory overload indeed. I felt every plant sway in the cascading winds, heard the cacaws of each bird saying good night to the mountain, each and every sensation making me jump with a hopeful sighting of one of my winter neighboors - bobcats, foxes or bears.
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