I'm dreaming. It's cold outside and I want to cuddle up to a cup of coffee. My knees, drawn in to my chest, help keep me warm... aromatic steam rising from the lid of the cup, like a spirit lusting to be inhaled. I'm alone. I'm always alone, which is okay... It's comfortable and I can think. I believe its snowing too. And someone is calling me. Not someone, but something... maybe someone, I don't know. I look up at the mountains for a moment... the tops have vanished into the low cloud-cover, but I can see the canyon and then the voice is clear, "come to me," it sings. And I slowly let my legs down to the ground, stand and stretch my arms to the sky. Picking up my coffee, I walk to my jeep and so begins my journey home.