 |
| A sunset--but this is just how the sky looked this morning (didn't have a camera) |
I woke up hours before the sun rose. It was pitch black out and about 10 degrees F. I pulled on my thermal running pants, a thermal shirt, a down vest and a reflective heat parka, a heat-tech wool hat, and double layer pair of gloves. On my head, I put a 150watt head lamp and with my hiking shoes, headed out into the cold, my breath coming out as great puffs of white.
I met a dear friend and together we climbed 1500 feet to the top of a mountain of a hill behind our houses, Milly's Mountain a fellow hiker once told us, in the darkness. We talked about the world we live in, the one we hope for, and how we get to choose our hard.
We got to the top and stopped and turned around three-sixty. The mountains to the east, Lone Peak, Pfeifferhorn, Box Elder, were perfectly outlined in the pinking sky. Salt Lake City Valley sparkled and twinkled to the north of us and Utah Valley shimmered to the south of us. House lights were turning on to the west of us in a community beside the trail.
And the two of us, we stood there and witnessed the world waking up.
We ran down our trail with the sky turning pink and then crimson and blue, a family of deer running across our path and beside us. Our noses and cheeks burned from the cold, but our hearts, they were warm.
All day I've seen the world just a little different. The colors are brighter--because I know what the world looks like in black and white. The warmth of my house, blessed warmth, feels more precious. And friends who will get up before the sun even begins to light the sky--well, crazy--but also probably the most beautiful part of my day.
Comments
Post a Comment