Go up to a high place, just to fall in love with the land, to meet the sky face to face, to run your fingertips across buds and blossoms, to press your soul against the green, to drink from the sun.  Take your time, your sweet old time.  Dawdle.  Sit in the sagebrush.  Listen to the birds and feel the wind.  Don’t come down until the half moon is strung up in the feathers of the fir trees, the dogs are hungry and your hands are cold.  I’m sure you’ll agree, it’s the perfect way to spend an evening.