Hiking in the tumbledown of North Cheyenne Creek on the Seven Bridges Trail Sunday morning. Our cheerful threesome among the few souls out before the sun had fully risen. We reveled in air heady with the scent of pine and earth, our laughter punctuated by Chickadee song. Mother Nature, in her usual awe inspiring fashion, made a dazzling display of ice and rock in the rush. The water, to my great amazement, flows voluminously at this time of year, with scarcely any snowfall. How is this even possible? I imagine some cosmic pump thrumming in the depths, lifting water up and up, only to gurgle and sing on down again. How lucky we are that it does and so reliably, too. Yet another marvel of the universe in my own backyard.