When I lived in Colorado, I loved to hike. It was never about the end result, always the process. Always. I especially loved the sounds. There were hundreds of coniferous trees and when the wind would blow through the needles and cones it would make a beautiful hum.
While walking the dog the other morning, I passed two huge coniferous trees right as the wind blew. I stopped in my tracks. That sound. My eyes filled with tears. I’m thankful for those trees…a bit of Colorado in the desert.
6. the “newness” of each day