A Moment of Zen

All the world was bathed in the warm glow of golden orange as the frost of the evening whipped through my hair. The mountains in the back drop are silhouetted by pink edged wispy clouds, only the high mountain peak winds can produce clouds like this, and the sky is so blue I have chills, but perhaps its the cold wind beginning to bite at the backs of my hands. I glove up and zip up to contain the heat still left in my inner layers. The water below me is clear and chatty as it descends the high mountains behind me. They are so powerful and breathtaking in the dieing light. It makes my heart race to look at them. I look up at the snow that lives on the peaks year round and it is swirling around in a ballet of shimmering white in the last of the sunlight. I take in one more deep breath of crisp mountain air, pull on my hat, and start down the rocky slop before me.