Mountains pull at us in a romantic, magical way. We marvel at their foreboding nature. Silent watchers. Protective friends. They have seen so much over millions of years and we just pass through — a blip on their radar. A blink of an eye. For a moment, we are strange neighbors.
Each time we are surprised by the beauty of it all. Of simply being out there. We do not stop and think that this experience is wholly natural. Recognizable. It is life itself. The mist in the air comforts and soothes us. Lush, green trees and wet, pine scented air whisper their hellos. We feel at home, even though our houses and apartments are left empty today as we walk. A certain peace hums below everything. It calls from the rivers and the trees, down in the valleys and up on craggy summits.
You can feel it wash over you. A wave of wild renewal.