The wind races, blowing my hair into my face. Here, on this mountain top, I feel unstoppable. Looking down to the forests of rough oaks, spikey pines, and sweet maples. Down at the suburban rooftops, flat, slanted. Down to the field with its tall grass, to the bay in the distance with its pristine water, and the small sailboats on the water. Up to the clouds, which I feel like I can touch. Back to the trail here, a reminder to where I came. Here, I am refreshed, my creativity reborn, and I feel I can do almost anything. Now, I start down the mountain, leaving behind the raging wind and the beautiful view. One day, I will come here again. That makes me smile.