Mile 714. McAfee Knob.

I know how the birds feel when they soar under the rays of a setting sun.

My lungs expand.   In, in, in, inhale.   I absorb into every cell the vast universe concentrated in the valley below.

A crocheted patchwork of deep green, with ant-sized barns like buttons.  

Far below, a hungry cow moos.  It echoes against the mountains of torn tissue paper, artfully layered in a rainbow of blue-gray hues. 

If I stand on my tip-toes, I can touch the clouds.  Soft pink puffs of cotton, with essence of silver and white.  

I want to stay.   

I have McAfee Knob to myself - a miracle on a 70-degree Saturday in June.

I know I promised my friends to meet them at the next shelter.   The lure of the moment, however, is a stronger force.

I have to stay.

I choose a flat circle on the granite cliff.   My tent for the evening is the stars, the moon, and the universe.   We are one.

I lay out my tarp.   I blow up my mattress.  And I snuggle into my sleeping bag.   

Dream big.   Go boldly.   This is life.   Yes, this is living.