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I watched and waited for that sun to rise over those mountains.
My head knows - it happens every morning.
My heart cried - but it 's never looked and felt quite like this.
I didn’t realize that I’ve been holding my breath.
In one giant exhale.
We begin again with promise.
Crisp and clear and colder than is seasonally expected.
It’s a rare day when the sun shines in November.
And - with one extra hour - the light is spectacular.
Today - I’m reaching for joy.
I’m holding it tight.
Who knows what will bring tomorrow.
In the pink-ish light of early morning…
After the rain.
After the wind.
After the corn’s harvest.
Past their peak…past their prime…
The trees whisper their stories.