Sixty seven degrees today,
at 1 o'clock when I climbed into the car
hair wet from sweating and even hotter still as I felt the stale car air.
Sixty seven degrees and sky so blue the mountains stood out sharp--
the rocks jagged and broken alongside the blackened remnants of trees holding tight to the horizon.
What is this weather?
The bees gone now for over two weeks may start buzzing around again looking for nectar.
A lone purple aster jetting out from the morphing patch of thyme that is slowly consuming my strawberry patch.
And the sky!
No clouds there, only the vast emptiness that causes a blue so deep it pierces my soul.
My soul that has begun its annual longing for the sky's gift of snow.
A longing that can be soothed only with the darkest gray of snow-filled clouds that continue to provide for hours on end.
A longing that rears up once the skies begin to clear--even if only for a moment.
Where is that snow?
I am yearning to trod through trails laden deep with cover...to feel my heart rate climb while walking at altitude.
To stand at the top of an open run, the trees splayed apart as if beckoning me to fall free.
And yet, I am ever hopeful. Hoping that soon this will not simply be a longing in my mind, but reality.