She sat on the edge. The edge of the mountains, which are formally called, the Rocky Mountains. With his arm around her, she consumed the beauty of the place she once called home. Now a foreigner, she watched as the birds soared in the pale light of the early morning sky. She could hear the wind dancing through the air as the trees reached out, trying to catch it. With no success, the leaves moaned and rustled with annoyance. The birds were giggling and singing as if to say, ‘Look at me – I have a secret – don’t you wish you knew?!’
The fog was starting to clear, as if someone was pulling back the curtains to reveal the reality of the magnificent mountains. She caught her breath as she saw the sun yawning. It slowly crept out of bed, elongating the suspense of its glorious light, that so many people were depending on. She looked at him and said, “Dad, thank you for sharing this moment with me.”
So, in her father’s arms she sat and watched the cold light of the morning turn into the welcoming light of day. And in that split second, she knew that everything would be alright.