I cannot deny it. I am a mountain girl. Not the kind who believes that shaving in winter is a waste of time and warmth, or thinks that a pair of black thermal leggings are formal wear, and not quite like Carolyn “Mountain Girl” Garcia, former Merry Prankster and Grateful Deadhead. But ever since our family vacation across Kansas as a young girl, when I first saw the hazy outline of the Rocky Mountain foothills on the Colorado horizon, I’ve been eternally smitten. That was a spiritual experience for me, and to borrow from John Denver, “might say I was born again”. For me, too, it was like “coming home to a place I’d never been before.”
I love the cool, thin, dry air, the rushing mountain streams and vertical trails, the late summer wildflowers, rustling aspen groves, scree fields below the tundra, perfect crystal snowflakes, and the crunch of packed powder beneath my skis. And though the well-known local adage says “you come for the winter, but you stay for the summers”, after the many years I spent there, I still don’t know which season I prefer.
I recently read a post from a friend and fellow blogger that featured an exhilarating video taken as she flew over the mighty Himalayas. It stirred my soul and made me long for the high country. For some reason I am feeling more homesick than usual for the mountains. From the high Himalayas to my beloved Colorado Rockies, no matter where I travel in the world, the mountains never cease to fill up my senses.
There is a peace that knows no understanding when standing atop any of my favorite ski runs when I take the moment to reflect, enjoy and thank God for his many blessings.
I only realized the root of my love affair with mountains when I returned to my birth town in Italy, Rosciolo dei Marsi, a very small, old town seemingly carved out of a spur emanating from Monte Velino along the Appenini Mountains east of Rome. But, alas, the dryness and thinness of air at high altitude compels me to shorten my excursions into the mountains. Oh, how I suffer as I sip my morning cup of coffee (or evening wine), while perched on our patio overlooking the Atlantic Ocean and Intercostal Waterway. 🙂
Yes, I’ve seen how you suffer 🙂
Kristi: I share your love of the mountains but I keep another mistress, also. I also love the sea very much. I was not fortunate enough to be born in California, where the mountains meet the sea. Maybe someday things may work in that direction!