The air is fresh here in these mountains. I am grateful.
Because at times it seems that's about all one can do: breathe.
This is real life. The real and the raw. Life full of hopes and dreams and good, and rightful things. Foundation strength, solid character, the deep touch of love.
Then, wrong ways and caution signs; pillars crumbling. Trail's end; falling apart; and what the hell is going on?
Hurt gapes wide and dreams weep.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
Now, before you send a flurry of "Is everything okay?" following this post, I have to say that, yes, I'm sure it will be. You know tough places, though. They're, um, hard. And they happen here, too.
