Mornings air

Walking alone in mornings air
Footsteps on bent grass
Musical sounds of courting birds
Cows curiously watching me
Trees rustling leafy growth
After long winters sleep
Old fences and kissing gates
Baby rabbits tumble out of hedges
Playing by the trickling creek
I'm getting closer to Cam peak
A rising cone
Breathing harder
Legs pounding it's very steep
Ascending rampart worn by many feet
Woods, fields, villages and wide river
Are all mine now to contemplate
And take in the country, to be part of it
This is living for the morning
Spring is special year on year
Blood quickening
The town is spread out below
I pick out streets and landmarks
And think of myself navigating these
If I could see my life spread out like this
A map, with crossroads of emotions
Milestones indicating losses behind
Or how much further to future gains
Growing hedges of infancy
Hamlets of puberty, teenage parishes connected by lanes of first loves, crushes and stumbling, failed romances
Dark woods of resignation
Hills and valleys sweeping with the highs and lows of what I've done
The river of adulthood flowing through into an unknown distance
Church steeples punching the sky with major decisions
Would it look pretty? would it look fabulous?
Does it seem average?
Would I be able to use this map to navigate my way through it again?
Perhaps it would be indecipherable and I will go unguided
I beath in deeply this morning air
And wander home in amazement