It is a day when you awaken, knowing
The air is different, before your eyes
Admit the silver light of mountain dawn. . .
A day when breezes have the subtle edges
That make you lift your head and fill your lungs
And disbelieve that summer's sun still shines. . .
A day when light is crystal clear and golden
With promises of colors yet to come
In alpine meadows, hills and forest glens. . .
A day when mountain trails become enchanted,
When pack and heart alike are lightly borne,
When all the forest creatures are your kin.
It's true, the days that follow will be crisper,
With colors bright and shadows longer still.
But this day
Like the first day
Of the first love of your youth
Will ever be remembered.
The air is different, before your eyes
Admit the silver light of mountain dawn. . .
A day when breezes have the subtle edges
That make you lift your head and fill your lungs
And disbelieve that summer's sun still shines. . .
A day when light is crystal clear and golden
With promises of colors yet to come
In alpine meadows, hills and forest glens. . .
A day when mountain trails become enchanted,
When pack and heart alike are lightly borne,
When all the forest creatures are your kin.
It's true, the days that follow will be crisper,
With colors bright and shadows longer still.
But this day
Like the first day
Of the first love of your youth
Will ever be remembered.
