The harmony of all living things in this place of wonder is astounding. In the early morning haze, there is an aura of mystery...haunting and alluring, calling me as if by divine magnetic mandate. Setting plastic cutlery on my emptied plate I leave the campsite a jumbled mess and head for the rocky, scree-strewn trail head of Deer Mountain. Mother nature has tailored this day for me alone in the benevolent fashion she has mastered so well in every season.
Along the trail I am surprised to find shards of broken pop bottles and empty potato chip wrappers. Those who frequent these mountain trails are usually more respectful of the beauty and divinity of nature. But when I factor in the truth that some people have no respect for anything or anyone but themselves, I become sad and angry rather than surprised.
Continuing my climb to higher elevation, I catch a glimpse of motion through the grove of aspen just beginning to dress for spring. Standing very still and stretching my eyelids to their highest point, I spot a new-born fawn slowly meandering out from the brush on its spindly, shaky legs that are much too long. But not to worry...Mama is not far behind and I catch my breath as I hear her make that beautiful ''come here my sweet'' call to her new offspring. The last image I hold is those snow white tails swishing in the breeze as they make haste for the safety of a spruce forest. And I say to myself......it doesn't get any better than this! ~~~