The Sunday Whirl

Off in the quiet shouldered blur of Rocky Mountain tips, stretched above the mists of a dawn’s horizon, I had once again awoke to the natural beauty of Colorado.

Such a sight to greet me on a chilled morning and I had to laugh as my still thoughts were suddenly disturbed by the whirred sounds of a lawn mower. However, that ordinary sound interruption yielded another sensation—the scent of newly mown grass.


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