I stand at the base of the snow-covered mountains,
These great Adirondack giants are waiting patiently for spring,
Pine and birch lay dormant in the promise of what’s to come,
Like the night yearns for the dawn,
So do these mighty mountains ache for the vernal sun,
For the Loon to call from the placid lakes below,
Beckoning the breath of life from the heavens onto all that lay below,
Rejuvenating this tundra from desolate ice to sublime grandeur.
