A walk into a mountain shadow most always rewards one with a special treat. My treat a few summers ago was the sound of a mountain creek trickling off somewhere within a copse of scrub oak.

Pushing on into the trees I came across a grassy knoll with a small stream meandering down one side. 

Fresh green grasses sprouted along its edges and the sound was almost musical as the water tumbled down over the rocks and crevasses in its path.

Further along a boulder sat half into the creek making a horseshoe shaped pool. Since it was a hot July day I quickly removed shoes and socks and sat on the boulder with my feet dangling in the cool water.  My what a relief it was and without Rolaids. 

I sat for a half hour enjoying the brisk water and the lovely sounds of a running brook overlapping the rustle of pine needles rustling with the soft breezes in the tops of the ponderosas that surrounded me.

Ah yes indeed, the joys of being within mountain shadows are unmatched 

Unfortunately I cannot, in my wheelchair, do those things anymore but I most certainly remember them in minute detail.