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On the mountain peak, I picked dried yellow flowers, to show I made it to the top. And just below this stuck into the journal, a leaf from the tree I think is hawthorn.
All in all, a pleasant day, with invigorating air on the mountain, and a beautiful view of the city in the valley below on both sides of the peak. Hills carpeted in sage green, muted brown, yellow, and tan. I begin to see the appeal of the West, bleak as it can seem at other times.
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