Dawn on a mountain

Image: tpsdave (Pixabay)

I had never been on a mountain.

When it was dawn that is. – Well, actually I have. It was gorgeous. The sun appearing above the horizon, shining bright orange, shining Sunkist-light, like orange juice in the form of light. Warm, enlivening in the cold. And spreading about the landscape like a beautiful stain.

But this. She sighed when she picked up the postcard.

I’ve never been in this kind of “dawn” on a mountain… Her fingers touched the cellophane lightly.

It’s so beautiful, as though the people there are beautiful too, with wonderful relationships. So cozy, she continued..

I want this dawn on a mountain.

The mountain of the world, where the elements are about you, but you are safe within and around your people, your community.

I want that.

She cried herself to sleep, in a wooden lodge, surrounded by myriad dummies dressed in ski clothes. The firelight flickered off their empty sock puppet faces..

>>

Far away, her real family hung by the phone, waiting for her to call..

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