On a cool morning, in the hamlets and villages erected in the shadow of the fabled mountain, the villagers stirred, brewed their lattes and started preparations for their annual feast… the smoke from their cooking pots rising into the still air…
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Love the poetic prose!
(It perfectly described my morning admiring said fabled mountain from my kitchen perched above a newly verdant canyon.)
Stunning and inspiring, thank you.
You betcha, JB!