I'm just home from running 19K around the hills and valleys near us. I was beyond inspired today.
The sun is glorious and as I weaved my way up into the countryside, I could spot the seven chateaux that dot the peaks and hills, each gleaming warm and yellow in the sun. Except, of course, the mighty fortress that reflected purple and blues out over the green fields dotted with brown and white cows.
Farther off in the distance, I could make out the city, tucked ever so neatly up against the extinct volcano. The mountains rising fiercely behind, their snowy peaks contrasting sharply with the darkness of the volcanic stone.
Everything is green, blooming and alive today. I felt as though I could run for miles, fueled by the sounds of the birds, the trickle of the streams, the rays of the sun guiding me.
I wish every run could be so amazing. But I am grateful that even in poor weather, I know those mountains and those chateaux are there. Quiet, silent, strong, and steady.
There is magic in these hills.