Hiking the steep remote trails of Mt. Magazine with a slight breeze at my back and 69degree temperatures is the perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon. You never know what you will find around each corner!
I found myself wondering whose footsteps touched this place long before mine and how they came to carve out this lovely little trail through such a majestic place. This place where serenity needs no words for a description.
Up here, in the clouds, with no phones, or cars or man-made noises, I thought about Robert Frost's The Sound of Trees:
"Some day when they are all in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say
But I shall be gone."
