A light fog draped among ancient trees and hanging in the air . It’s been several mornings in a row now and it feels like the custom . A bit of mystery and quietness into the start of the day like a mediation from nature as the grey mist lingers in the air .
Subtle hints of longer days and temperatures that are more inviting and even a few optimistic birds singing their morning hymns give way to cautious delight .
Deep , striking hues of color play with grey in the sky as the fog floats away . Dramatic splashes of red and fiery orange dance with light blue and the whiteness of clouds . It inspires dreams as much as rest .
A moment held and telling a story . It speaks not only of this moment of life’s history and evolution . It speaks of endurance intertwined with fragility and of quietness and courage . The story of a lone bison standing in stillness on the volcano known as Yellowstone and myself , the lone explorer , standing in the threshold of what was and what is . Welcoming the freedom of quietness in a pause and willingly entering the mystery .