like a sigh of contentment
the mist rises and hovers
over the ridges and peaks

slipping silently along
softening edges to a blur
giving an ethereal feeling
to an already heavenly sight

we pass between bright pink
rows of bursting Redbud trees
cheerfully waving us on
scattered patches of golden
wildflowers
saluting us on the hillsides

all of which makes the rain
less dreary
and the broken white line
less tiresome