Thomas Doty – Storyteller
Hours Before Sunrise
On a winter morning lit by the frosty glitter of stars, I itch to be walking the trails into the Siskiyou Mountains hours before it's light. I long to hear the sound of my footsteps at sunrise, to walk the mountain creeks and listen to the winter songs of water ouzels as they dip upstream, to see clouds that are the smoking breaths of deer browsing the upper slopes. I long to be walking the Siskiyous as the first light streaks a map for the late-rising sun.
Hours before sunrise, it's too early to walk. I drift back into warm dreams of longer days and more time on the trail.
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