I awoke this morning with an indescribable energy for the day ahead. I peered out the window and to my dismay, was met with looming darkness. I shut my eyes, hopeful that I would fall back asleep. As I tossed and turned under the warmth my covers, I fought the restlessness that pulsed through my body. This was not a battle worth fighting, so I lit a fire and brewed a big pot of coffee.
I sat watching the logs burn one by one, wrapped in a blanket and cradling my coffee mug with both hands. As the cabin began to fill with light, I wandered over to the window to see the sun slowly breaking through the morning mist. I caught a glimpse of the foggy valley, the only proof that the passing clouds hadn’t taken us with them. I poured myself another cup of coffee and began my daily preparations.
As I waited for the embers in the fireplace to die out, I charged the battery for the camera and glanced at the weather forecast. Temperatures sat just above freezing, so I found my knitted head warmer and dug up some wool socks. I slipped into a pair of leggings and braided my hair in pigtails. When the fire was shut and the battery was charged, I laced up my hiking boots and out the door we went.
We set out in the direction of Ranten, laying tracks of boots and paws in the wet mud, one next to the other. This was the first time it had stopped raining in days. We marched down the hill, trekked along the riverbank, and trudged across the bridge… just in time to catch the fog lifting from the mountains. Beneath the fog, a thin layer of powdered snow brushed across the peaks, the first sighting of the season.
I had a feeling today would be special.