No pane, no glass, no mask yet a window, it offers such a sight! Air exchanges so freely and it’s cold today, it nips at your toes and your fingers and your skin so exposed. The sun in the sky is bright and it fights the cold. They are neck and neck, fall and sun and they play amidst the wind and the snow. Rocks with lichen that face the sun melt, whereas across the cut of this land so carved, snow covers the earth and the underlying dirt and rock and tree and meadow. Tall grasses poke up yet are battered-like, in bends and fragile pick-up-stick mounds, with snow in their balance. So many different colors of brown, hints of red, tufts of green and orange like magical carpets, blanket your view, and mine, and that of canine Lady Bee, who nestles beside us in the sun’s cradle. The fold of the earth down below, and the town, are being swept into a cold dark shadow as the sun draws lower to the west. Shadows are creeping. You may remember too that the sun is pulling forth the waxing Halloween moon that will soon cast a new light upon the darkness when the entire fold of land around us slips into reaches beyond the setting sun!  Black and white chic-a-dee’s feed in the skeleton of aspens nearby, curious as to our presence here. A hawk, so brown yet colorful like the land, soars below us, closer in the fold and you wonder the feeling of such grace, such flight. Does its belly flutter like yours, like the thrill of a baby kicking inside, or a Ferris wheel spinning? Up here, the air you breathe is full of bounty and promise, its invisible life is teeming with color, despite the coming season of slumber, the hibernation of Mother Earth. To be maskless, to take a deep breath in and sigh, to look at the softness of Bee’s beautiful coat and her trust staring back into your soul, you realize healing and joy, they exist in invisible air, sparkling in the sunshine of a cold October day.

Kim Richard