Landing strip,
rising, snow tipped mountains.
It's something I had seen before,
but not truly had I grasped,
its breathtaking beauty.
Creeks, rivers, and streams,
swimming with season.
Fields of moss, bushes, and brush,
bring ripe berries to be plucked.
The ribbons of green, yellow, and red,
performing a mysterious dance,
in the winter's sky.
The whimsical twinkling,
of the breakup in spring.
The breach of sun,
at high noon.
Long warm nights,
prolonged cold days.
The birth of new life,
when all has melted.
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