I emerged out into the summer morn only to find it more suggestive of fall. A new sky surrounded me. I went for my morning ride. Cooler airs always re-teach me how to love. I pushed. I came to a rise over the railroad tracks , and I pushed. I sweat up that hill, overlooked by first-light-touched trees to my left. I pushed. I pushed until I somehow tore through my world of black and grey and re-enentered my world reverberating with color and ringing with shine. First light now had surrounded me. There was no escaping its gloom-shattering, hope-blooming sheen. I made emotional re-connect with old friends, my nature kin. There was the ol' young pine, shimmering in the fresh sun among the flowing grass, the colors of which are the epitome of emotions that words such as paradisiacal and bucolic only scratch at. And there was grandfather pine looking wild and other-worldly up in that forever sky. I sat in the lush grass beside an abandoned grey parking lot, and even that sparkled, seemingly made of quartzy gravel. I sat and meditated, eyes shut, soul opened. I opened about 3 minutes later, and even the small patch of grass before me was flooded with light anbd held an alian beauty to it, as from another world.
