The Smell of Spring in the Mountains

There is something about the sound of Spring rain on a tin roof.

The warmth of a wood stove as it snaps, crackles, and pops.

The smell of homemade bread, and fresh brewed coffee.

Deer walk safely pass my window.

A pair of eagles circle above the cottonwood trees along the river.

Their high pitched calls a time of thanksgiving.

Winter changes and nest building time is near.

As afternoon light fades to an evening blanket of stars.

Coyotes sing in harmony.

An owl hoots from the tall pine tree.

I cradle my coffee cup, and know what it means to be blessed.