L
Lucinda S
Guest
The hawk darted, swooped, and circled around my head like a kite playing in the wind. The air was cool and crisp with fragrances of minted grass and lilac bloom. The sweet trickle of the glacier harmonized with the morning song of the swallows. The weeping willow branches dangle to the ground creating a canopy over the ground. The grass was wet from the night dew. Tiny creatures arise from their night sleep and started their daily chores. Tiny drops of water trickled down my head and tickled my eye lids; the morning sun had just appeared above the mountain peak and lit up the whole mountain side. The very few clouds had disappeared just bordering the pure rich baby blue sky. Mountain is place in between valleys and plains of minted grass parted by glaciers.