SOLC 7: In Which We Enjoy The Sunrise

Some things are just perfect, like the way two words fit together, each syllable dropping off of the tongue and into the air. Sitting at the top of a giant boulder and looking out over the sunrise. That spells perfect to me. The air is cool and dry, not daring to let any sort of unpleasant humidity get in the way. The only noise is the quiet sound of birds in the morning and a gentle rustling from the underbrush. I can't help but wonder why some moments are so much better than the others. They stay in your mind, hiding in a back corner until they feel like its safe for them to resurface. I guess that if every day was a good one, it would be hard to tell which ones were actually any good at all. Sunrise is almost always perfect. The beginning of another day. The beginning of an unknown future, waiting to unfold.