The clouds came down to meet me as I stepped into the clearing. The odd warmth in my soul comes in silent moments like this when I feel most at home. It must be the cold of the morning that bites down my neck just right.

I'm not walking for any reason but to be here. It feels more productive than sitting at home, sleeping, or even my actual livelihood. Something could be found out here. I press on, creating footsteps in the dew.