One time Matt and I went to go climb a mountain. Absorbing the golden light and our beer, we chatted (mostly listened) to what seemed like half the town of 150 people, as they waited for the cover band to play across the street. I can’t recall who and I can’t help but think we missed out. We slept on the dirt, rose with the sun. Primal, in theory... but with modern technologies. Sufficient. Satisfactory. —- Something so ethereal about dawn in the hills. The sweet comfort of dew rolling off the flowers and aspen leaves, and the birds, likely discussing their dreams. That’ll warm you like nothing else. Get walking, we’ve got sky to stare at, rocks to talk to, water to drift with.
