How can I not be joyful

I hike in the clouds, high on the mountain

Through fields of wildflowers
lupine, paintbrush, aster, avalanche lily

Bejeweled with diamonds formed of mist.

 In the distance I see movement

Then a brown smudge and another

Walking quietly, I come on two does

Grazing on something tender and wet.

But I am spotted

One of the does glides into the mist

But the other is bolder

She raises her head to examine this other mountain creature.

Then she too, is gone

Leaving me a bouquet of wildflowers

I stoop to look closer

and see this flaming paintbrush

How can I not be joyful