I breathe in deep and the cold, 65-degree air begins to fill my lungs. On a good day, my nose and cheeks turn a rosy red. On a bad day, they would have either remained peachy or started to look like beets.
Then I exhale and the can hear the wind rushing out of my mouth.
There’s a constant rustle in the background. It is not an inconvenience at all, but rather a welcome sight.
This. This is what I live for.
I am not there, but for a brief moment, I am. Read More…