Walking up the hill to the gate this morning;
Finishing 11/7, we return to Standard time.
A cold breeze blows, making my eyes water;
Stinging me is a mixture of sawdust and lime.
The wind's swirling chill making me hunker down;
This cold spell came without too much warning.
My lungs feel a slight burning as the air enters;
Watching my breath exhale on this chilly morning.
The stars twinkle as the sun previews his arrival;
Watching a stray cat scatter before my feet.
I see my truck at the other end of the parking lot;
I can hardly wait to climb in and crank up the heat.
I reach for the door, looking to the eastern skies;
I fall through time into this moment in presence.
Pausing, I watch the sun climb over the mountain
On this chilly morning; watching the colors intense.
A sense of awe warms my soul in a strange way;
Unaffected by nature's elements any longer.
Smiling, full of joy that the present moment brings;
Now getting into my truck, my soul is now stronger.
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