The mountain is beautiful enough in summer with its lush green mass of tree crowns lit up in the hot sun, but it is in fall that it feels like a golden fairy tale with bright yellow leaves all around you, above your head and under your feet. Each step you take, each sound you make, each breath you take in brings you closer to being part of an imagination come true.
I like to sit on a boulder at the mountain top looking down at the countryside below. Fields and groves, farmhouses and barns, men and horses all appear in another perspective. The things that normally can swallow me up now look like toys, and the knowledge that I have the choice of rising above them all fills my heart with peace.
View from Sugarloaf Mountain
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