A dew formed last night, it’s legacy dripping from the eaves of the house. A mist hangs in the shadows of a low range of mesas to the east while the rising sun burns the higher reaches. The calm air has let fall the dust it carried. Across this land, the traces of dust and water have mixed to form one of the freshest smells I have ever experienced. It is delicate, almost shy, and it is fleeting for it will fade as the sun clears the mesas. It is an odd characteristic for without the water, the air has a dry and dusty smell, too much water and the air is washed clean and the resulting mud has an unpleasant, acrid odor. It is in that delicate balance that such a freshness exists, however fleeting.
Each breath is awash in these microcosms of wonder. They are there for us if only we have the senses to perceive them. Relax your expectations and allow the world to unfold as it is. As your ego recedes, the world becomes.