Frost on the valley floor.
Sun painting the mountain tops.
Long shadows on peaks and cliffs.
The snow, high above, a blinding white.
Back on the valley floor,
It is in shadow.
Crisp, cold, fresh.
The frost crystallized on everything,
Lupine flowers and cow pies alike.
The only sounds are trickling streams.
The valley sleeps while the mountains look awake.
And here I am.
Bundled up with layers.
Leaning on a rock with hot coca tea nearby.
Admiring the view of the mountains above,
And watching my breath in the frosty air.
Enjoying the morning and the start of a new day.
(The picture I took while leaning on the rock)
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