Laurel Springs, N.C. – 57 degrees and sunny.

The mountain trees are ablaze in front of me.  The wind blows slightly, and the tree limbs dance as the leaves rustle.  Wind chimes sing as I sit and become present with myself.  The porch swing moves back and forth calling someone to sit.  There are a few birds and an errant wasp.  I let it be.  The world has stopped for now and I am not concerned about the myriad of issues that usually crowd my mind.  I hear crickets now and am grateful for the content.