February 15, 2017
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I got to see sunrise before it rose; it looked like it was opening, breaking. 

The sun is in full swing, its rays across the sky with few disarrayed clouds streaking the sky. 

The mountains' curves seeming to overlap each other creating silhouettes that could only be done on purpose.

My dyed hair shining in hues of bronze and gold. 

The asphalt smooth, bumpy, stretching in a path all the way to the clouds where they blend together into a frosty white, ever so slightly atop the mountains as if not to obscure their beauty-

made of jagged centers and smoothed out as corners as they expand.

The ones surrounding -holding us- are brown. Dirty. Dusty. Brown.

    But the ones far away are covered with snow looking as though chalk dust was meticulously sprinkled to give it a picturesque look.

As we are getting closer to the gentle giants I see that what looked like barnacles scattered across their bodies are plants- green, bulbous, and if not for their spikes- endearing.

    We just stopped off the side of the road to admire what so captured us and I perhaps got the freshest breath of air I didn;t know I had been holding. 

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