It’s warmer by the water– it always seems to be, especially at night. At this elevation, the moon shines so bright that no one bothers to turn on their lights as they head home.
A few stray sheep wonder into side streets, perhaps wondering if indeed, they should have followed the flock off of the bridge.
Young men walk up the streets in ones and twos– shuffling in between villages in the cover of darkness to find pop-up speakeasies.
The mountains bounce echoes from abandoned dogs and cryptic mammals, the entire scene is shaded by the constant mist; the last trails of snow glint off of the higher peaks, illuminated by the moon shine.
I breathe at the rush of it all– of how lucky I am. To be with these people, these primates, protected by both our isolation and the forces that exist within these wondrous conditions.