The Mountain and Me



Every time I come to this place I am always mesmerized by the many changing faces of my mountain.

Sometimes a brooding giant laid heavy with clouds of snow and rain, sometimes a lofty spectacle of sun and wind again, but always solid in it's stance and ever more a friend.

To be apart of its silent synergy is a lasting love and to breath its lithe air combed clean by the pines is a delight indeed. Of granite made yet gathering within its embrace the many and varied desert flora and fauna it stands ready for the day.

How many times have it felt its strength in the morning hours when, awaking to the desert sun, it's beacon ignites and sets the valley on fire with its reflection.

How many more moments have I looked in aw at it's staggering peaks and rocky valleys punctuated by bristles of cactus and yucca, bringing a prickly softness to its otherwise austere face.

This time I know it intimately, and this time I feel it more profoundly. In a few days I must leave its domain but I will feel it all the same. Whether in the desert or back in the plains, my mountain will be with me all the same.

You see, what I have discovered, and it was a surprise to see - I am the mountain because the mountain is in me.