ENTRY DESCRIPTION
I woke my last morning, long before sunrise, and rose to watch the crescent moon over North Palisades. The early morning stillness was bathed in a deep eastern indigo and had a rapturous ethereality, almost too perfect for the world. No wind, no ripple, no birdsong, just moon and mountain and a lone human. What a strange and magical glory it is to wander these Sierra mountains, lost to the world without.

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