Little Douglas Mountain

Coated in pristine snow, fallen leaves blanket the ground in a carpet of gold & warm browns. Swept up and dancing in the wind, they float carelessly through the canopy. Peace—at last. The breeze sings gently of humis, basalm, & sun-warmed pine needles. Alone, but not alone, in the wilderness. At each turn, thick rock cap moss carpets the old granite walls peripheral to the paths. The air feels clean & while this footpath has been traversed before, it feels uncharted. Pristine streams run alongside the trail, running, dancing down stones and over sand washes. Each step, wonder. Birdsongs ring out overhead like the purest bells, and as altitude is gained, so is clarity. At the summit, the daunting expanse of wilderness is laid out in ridges & valleys, and momentarily, wanderlust is satiated.