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Wash Over Me

Today it was windy. A gorgeous, sunny windstorm of sorts. It drizzled sticky pinecones while the first leaves of Autumn collected in mini-cyclones that followed me and my dog up the street. April's floppy ears blew upright as she trotted by my side. There is something cleansing, something freeing, about the crisp air. It doesn't really matter if you are in the mountains, the woods, or on the coast; each single weightless breeze washes over you as if to say, "There, that's better." Each inhalation further purifies the noxious clutter of mind and body. The air lifts the heart and expands the spirit, planting in us a renewed gratitude, and a desire to shine.