Browsed by
Category: The Feels

Ninety One Hundred

Ninety One Hundred

Ninety One Hundred Up at this elevation something catches in your throat The scent of pine, of campfires, long in your memories The golden hour, shining, on the green rolling summits, rocky peaks, and the aspens glow, with their small yellow-green of rebirth. Deep breath… catch. Seeking oxygen. Fighting back tears. Tears of seventeen years gone by and you just smiled at me and made me remember. Hiking sticks and walks to the ranger led campfires of my youth Junior…

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