Birds in the morning
Sing beauty into the day
Around this they fly
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Everything on the mountain was wet that morning except for me and my gear. I was set up between two close growing juniper trees, in a tent and under two tarps. I had a fire pit at the edge of the outer tarp where I'd been able to sit warm and dry by the fire during the rain the night before. I woke to live coals and blew my fire to life. The coals in the sky were lit too, and I let the sun dry the outer side of my tarps while I dunked ginger cookies in hot coffee.
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