Casper Mountain

by shelbysawyer

Casper Mountain

Every season has a certain smell. You know? That aroma that blows through the city signalling to the savviest of observers that a new season has arrived.

There’s an electricity about it that drives me wild. Summer’s scent is warm and spicy like a wild fire. That might just be from the sun burning the dehydrated plants that surround me.

It’s a magical time where anything can happen. It’s hope. It’s proof that the world can’t always be frozen and desolate. It’s also a remainder to enjoy it for now because sooner than one can wish it, the all too familiar smell of fall will be wafting around us.

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