Good morning!
It’s Sunday, and instead of walking down to the bay we’ve donned our sturdy shoes and hiked to the top of the mountain.
It’s a fairly steep path that rises more than 300 feet. But in the middle there’s an open patch of exquisite woods that smells like balsam fir and is filled with the song of hermit thrushes.
This is the domain of the bear and bobcat and Old Man Cooter, so we paused just long enough to catch our breath before continuing up, up, up, until we were scrambling along the side of a steep granite ledge. Then came the moment we could finally turn around and see this.
“And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.”
—Kahlil Gibran
Onwards,
Clara
