Epic sunrise shots and Instagram stories never start from the summit. They start with waking up at 4 AM, they start with sweat and burning muscles, they start with late nights and cold hangs on the side of mountains, they start with passion and high expectations...

The night is almost silent around me, broken only by the white noise of nature, of wind splashing through the treetops like water on rocks. I wriggled my way out of my sleeping back and into the cool pre-dawn. Swinging my feet out of my hammock, I rubbed my eyes and found my socks, still damp with sweat from the hike the night before.

The little owl who had watched me as I slept was gone, frustrated that I had disturbed its hunting. The night was still so dark beneath the swath of moody clouds that I could barely make out the shapes of trees that folded out of the darkness in hues of black.

I packed my bags and started hiking, my legs burning with the extra weight from the pack. I started overheating, sweat soaking through my shirt, my mind focusing on just moving. That's all I wanted to do, just keep on moving.

Life had been too stagnant lately, I had been too trapped, too caught up in the mess of things I was too tired to give up. Now I was tired, but in a way that refreshed my bones with clear mountain air and mornings so dark I could lose myself in them.

I found my way to the summit long before the darkness had slipped from the surrounding mountains, long before the light had started to wake on the eastern horizon. I found a spot to sit and watch the world wake up over the mountains. Waiting to see the sun yawn and stretch, glowing above distant summits, I watched time spiral on by the brightening colors behind the shapes of the mountains.

The wind howled at my back, a furious thing so caught up in itself that it forgot about the rest of the world. It spun and gusted, knocking the hat from my head, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

Hunkering down against the cool bite of it against the sweat on my skin, I grumbled and waited, but as the sky turned pink, the sun hid behind its covers. Clouds cloaked it's advance in the sky. I ran across the summit, glad to be awake and out in the wild places of the world, but oh so disappointed in the start of this new day.

When the sun was fully up, the gloom of clouds had turned the Adirondack mountains into dark layers. They escaped out into the distant light, waves in a stormy sea.

I felt it then, deep in my bones, that this was it, this was what I came for. I couldn't listen to those disappointed whispers in my bones, I came here for the wilderness, and here she was. In a moment of calm and clarity I just stood and watched the dark and light play out across those peaks and valleys, deep and dark and infinite.

I left the summit with a desire to take my time, a need to explore. It pushed the ache of my feet from my mind and I just started walking.

The world danced in blues and greens and dark shadows, layers of the wild stacked upon each other heavily enough to silence the words on your lips. You forgot about the beating of your heart and the heavy gasp of your lungs, and instead just watched the world unfold around you with every thunderous step.

The stillness in my chest helped me start my day...

I moved through the forest like it was a home to me, scattered sunlight drifting through the branches of trees lit my path. The deluge of a waterfall washed away my thoughts as the cool water streamed through my hair. I climbed down into a gorge amongst the boulders of giants, listening to the roaring of water throw itself over rocks.

Laying on my back, staring at the gorge walls, I paddled my feet in a stream until they grew cold and free of worry. My feet carried me farther into the wild where I lay amongst the fallen needles of towering trees. I felt with every breath in my body the moving's of the world, deep and wonderful and full of secrets.

Those secrets settle in my veins, stirring in the tide of my heartbeats until I am no more.

I breathe in, and the world breathes out.