While standing on my deck overlooking the morning mountains, I am hit with a crashing wave of nostalgia. My lungs can barely take in enough of the vibrant air. I can smell the warm seasons on the breeze, invoking dreams of playing in the sun, swimming in the ocean, ripping down highways and dancing under the stars. Of floating on rivers and plucking the sweetest blackberries from their guarded castles. Of exploring new places and long bike rides in the sun. Of adventures by moonlight and stunning walks in the forest, of lying in the sand hiding in a warm blanket from cool salty winds. Of campfire smoke and chilly nights under a blackened sky, to light filled mornings and special birdsong through the trees. While standing on my deck overlooking the morning mountains, I feel alive.