Hiking

The air is crisp, cool and thin. I can feel every breath I take. The smell is sublime, no trace of the unnatural perfumes of civilization. The sun breaks through the intense green, pressing a warm hand against the back of my neck. I trudge onward, the trail a mix of crusted mud and dead foliage, forming an indiscernible mosaic. The spruce spread out seemingly endless on either side of the path, fallen needles forming a massive carpet. With my eyes closed I can hear the symphony of nature. Birds provide a chorus over the roaring of the river as it clashes with rock. The wind whistles through the evergreens. Leaves rustle in appreciation. Opening my eyes I can see what my ears caught first. The river; it is a clear, pure blue. What I have only seen in pictures has become the subject of my reality. My gaze lifts upward, following the erratic outline of the mountain as it reaches to play with the clouds. Perfect moments are few and far between but this is one of them.