Summit Beauty

30 Mar

The sun is always the enemy on the top of a mountain in the middle of the winter. The glare off the snow is blinding. The air is always thinner up high, colder and dryer. It is a different world up there; at the very least you see the world differently. You see everything around you as if you were on google maps in satellite mode. The colors of the trees, the snow, the lakes, and the scattered evidence of human occupation all begin to blend together and yet are oddly distinguishable. The landscape is laid out before you in grand fashion, but there is a sense of detachment from it all. See but do not touch.

While the world stretches out in the distance, you stand on the top of a place secluded from it all. Beauty lies out there, but it grabs at you right here. The snow still clings to the branches, whiting out everything. It all gleams under the clear skies exuding radiance from the sun which is ever so much closer. Fresh snows as yet untouched by any living creature in all directions, new trails are ready to be blazed.

You have to enjoy these surroundings in an instant. I am not here to enjoy the view. I am not here to take in the splendor of the world from my high above perch. The trail waits to be blazed. I shove my boots into the bindings and strap in, things may get bumpy. I cover my eyes with my goggles and everything becomes more defined. What better to see you with my dear, dear mountain? Deep breath of the cold air and I gain confidence. Turn up the tunes, crank that shit to 11 and get pumped up. This is about to get bumpy.


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Posted by on March 30, 2011 in Flash, Non-Fiction


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