Sons Of Day

September 18th,

   A beautiful scene was thrown across the mountains on the way to work today; the cold dark breath of the night still lingered about the valleys now washed pale as a blue haze in retreat from a thousand shades of gold racing across the ridges threatening it's advance. Somewhere in between lay an ominous but beautiful mist effortlessly melding the trees in which it also hid from it's vanquisher now exiling it's congregation until dark once again longed for it's company.  Unconcerned lay wrinkle after wrinkle of ridge and valley quietly and haughtily watching as dawn and dusk, morning and moonlight, and all sons of day fought for it's canvas, show-roomed for the stars to admire, on which to boast of their grandeur.