By the time I stepped out my door, it was 8 o'clock and the most glorious kind of lovely. The air was crisp. The sun just peering between the mountain peaks. Specks of gold seemed to flick from the snowy ground. And then it happened.
As I rounded the first corner, my foot landed in the few days old, overnight frozen, super loud crunchy snow. And it was like I was home.
Some mornings are just perfect. Even when you don't wake up on time.
|Photo from Saturday's morning run. Close enough.|