On a Whim

Yesterday I climbed a mountain on a whim. 

While working on my yard, I noticed the peak nearest my house was covered in a thick white blanket stretching halfway to the earth.  I was suddenly overwhelmed with an intense urge to hike in mist and cloud.  Penguin and I drove the short way to the trailhead, starting the trek with nothing more sophisticated than the sweatshirt on my back and a water bottle in his hand.  Once on top, legs swollen, bodies screaming, we lay in a small valley overlooking the inlet.  Nestled against the curve of his body, head resting on the flat plane of his chest, I felt a peace that has eluded me for a long time.  Just before we rose to stumble our way downhill, the sun peeked out and sat warm on my cheek, a perfect kiss to remind me that I am alive and loved.

I will hold onto this moment.  I will not let the dark encroach.