One of THOSE days of the year.

You know those days?

You look up and see that the sky is blue, and you stop.

You sigh, or maybe just breathe a little deeper and you look again.

You drive past a field of flowers in bloom, and their scent drifts in through the open window and you breathe that in too.

And you sit outside and the breeze, for it is hardly that, tickles your skin.

It tickles the back of your neck as – passing - it gently ruffles your hair.

And another sigh escapes you.

And then you come up over a hill and there in front of you lie the mountains, though lie is not the word.

Rise the mountains.

There the mountains soar.

You come up over the hill and the mountains scream at you – look at our majesty! Breathe us in!

Rejoice with us and tell the others!

Look at the snow that covers us, look at our depth and beauty and see how the snow, depth and beauty reach up into this blue sky and demand that it be even bluer!

Those mountains are a mystery.

Those mountains were not there yesterday.

Those mountains are calling you to the ocean beyond.

Where you could swim.

You know those days?