AS I was walking in the great vast outdoors in the woods where the mountains seem too reach the great blue sky; With the puffy white smoke clouds that seem too race across the sky. I was pondering over a question that made me wonder why do I love the mountains for where I now live? It isn't because its like the city for which I lived not so long ago that had anything one could want as far as busniness, and things too do. No unlike the city the mountains for which I now reside is dry like the lakes, and rivers are becoming. Dry as in no alchol of any kind can be bought, unless you like too travel about 25 miles too the nearest town too get it. I looked upon the raging brown giant mountain top that could almost reach the sky, and started too realize what it was that I loved about this place so dear. It was the birds that was singing from a distance a group of canadian geese flying away for the winter cause the morning air is now becoming quite crisp. Frost is starting too form on the ground making the groung harden as it is now turning brown. The wildlife are now starting too graze if you look out you may see one, or more in the delightful moonlight haze. You hear no yelling, no beeping of car horns, but you may hear an cow moo along the way. Everyone in a city all seem too be in a hurry, but around here everyone is slow, and never really busy. Although the accent is much different, and things are never the same it's the little things that make me glad I choose too stay. Instead of the daily stock talk around here you may hear the talk of live stock, or the FFA. As the smoke haze coats the valley below the giant mountain life seems too move a lot slower here in the mountains which is why I love too stay.