It was so cold, so cold, so cold, on my run today. My feet felt like icy hooves, clattering along the road. And, then, all of a sudden I stopped thinking exclusively about the weather and looked around. There I was, on the top of a hill, staring at a herd of cows wearing warm coverings. There were vultures in the sky, too.
What classifies a mountain as a mountain? For the first time this morning, I could see the far ridge in full relief beyond my line of sight. And just as clearly, I saw the skyline reflected in small pond ringed by stones. I would have missed it had the cold not slowed my steps.
Early Rising 