The City lights laid out below;
The streetlights that dot the distant and winding streets seem to tell their story with their mysteriously sequential blinking.
Nothing but the ground beneath us, and the glorious spray of twinkling starts above.
The air was other than nippy. It smelled of crisp chatter and plain curiosity, with some notes of querry, added to it some hints of a budding...
It felt much more than warm being wrapped around those arms.
The closest thing to be and at such a wonderful, lofty place.
Framed by a lone pine, parked wheels,and a silent structure by the rear... cast against a background of lights from the town below that seem to meet with those that dot the night sky.
The feeling of being hushed just to let the wind have her say...hung like notes that play on my ear..
That same hush made the fact be heard and felt.. that for that one special moment... not one was anybody else's. Each one belonged to the moment. Each one belonged to that poetry of a picture.. that formed part of such happy package for reverie....
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