Crashbox

Chilly mountains rising among the high, wispy clouds. The peace and calm of the empty road. Snow. Just a little, but enough for a couple of snowballs aimed at any chance spot of bare skin. The car is almost out of gas, but God is with us. A crumbling dam, two tunnels and a stream. Crossing the stream on broken-down matted piles of bamboo from the rainstorm; who knows how deep the water was under us. They both fell once---it could of been very bad, thank goodness for guardian angels. Motorcycles almost hit the rock we knocked into the road when we climbed to the top the arch of the tunnel. And guess what? There is a cave behind the concrete face. I don't know, but there is a soothing of the soul, a rejuvenation of the mind and the emotions here, in the mountains on a lazy Sunday. Some my own conclusions were a little surprising, but you know, it's good to have a somewhat clearer head. Protect me from myself, dear God, and guide me to do your will.