The Sun sinks on the Autumn Ridge.
I've seen her as she exits,
Viewed from way up high on the mountain side...
The clouds settle over us in a wispy mist.
The Sun turns her back and the dampness lays in.
My fingers grow cold and numb trying to write,
Sitting by the stream as it gurggles and gushes~ swishy and swirly.
A canopy of green, yellow, orange and red tower above us,
As splendid as any cathederal, Holy as any church.
If God is in the details- then surely He exists in this place...
In the light, colors, and sounds which fill the senses.
Steep and arduous hills are with the climb-
Walk slowly, keep breathing, struggle for the top.
Then turn to see the treasure spill out before you~
There IS a difference between being breathless from an excursion-
And being breathless from wonder.
Both have their place ♥