There are nights, when I sit out on the deck in the coldest weather; just looking at the moon. It sits there, shrouded in its gray shawl of cool blackness just waiting for something, anything to happen. Standing, I can see the hills and trees that surround the landscape, I can hear the soft howl of the coyote and I smell the wind so pure and untouched that I breathe it like gold. Normally the winds would chill me and force me back inside, but tonight I simply feel enveloped by it like a warm blanket. In a society where simple thoughts are so few and far between I feel exhilarated by the feeling of deep thought and recollection. Imagine that, a feeling of exhilaration when no one else is around.