It seems to get harder and harder to come back from the mountains. There, I exhale. I breathe. I meditate in God’s wonders. I take in nature and I see the world through a different lens. Simply, I live.
Riding on the mule at sunset I drove through the canopy of towering trees as fireflies glistened all around me. In some ways it all seemed very surreal, like I had been tossed in a tunnel of thousands of cascading lights. I rode in awe of the forest around me. There are days when I feel I have been enveloped by nature and I behave like a child seeing things for the very first time. I am giddy over the wild turkeys, the little bunny rabbits and the deer who stood and held our glaze.
Maybe that is it–seeing through new eyes, like a child. I have no expectations of what the mountains will bring and I hold an amazing respect for all they hold. It is the simple things–the rain approaching through the trees that begins with a murmur and lands with a strong burst. It is the way it can be pouring, but the trees provide an umbrella of refuge. It is watching a storm brew in the distance from the ridge as the clouds form what looks like the ocean. It is the feeling that the real world is so far away and life, like my little mountain town, is simple.
I like it that way.
I never realized just how easy it can be to take life at a slower pace, to breathe in the wonder of the mountain’s beauty and how a ponytail and no makeup beats a flat iron and heels any day. It is the view from a pair of “tenny shoes”, covered in mud and the smell of Off. It is ending the day with a ride through the woods with family, laughing at the day and looking forward to tomorrow. It is simple. It is peaceful. It is a part of me now.
I like that.