What does it mean to walk up a mountain? For some, I suppose it's the challenge. It's the adrenaline rush of your heart and feet brushing the earth below. For others, it can be an escape. It can be a simple form of self-care, having the opposite effect to the first. Slowing down to hear the sounds around you, spotting little treasures and sharing in the smiles of others we meet along the way.
No matter your pace, it's a beautiful experience, to walk up a mountain. The trees feel so alive, swaying in the wind. Their roots intertwining with the rocks and earth below - making the path to the top a real adventure. This stone showing through, the shapes and patterns emerging from the soil are the tip of the iceberg of possibility that lies right beneath our feet. For this is the foundation of us, the land we walk on. Reminding ourselves of this array of life, experiencing it, truly being present with it, becoming a part of it - brings us back to who we are. Another whole world lies beyond the shades of green and brown that we're walking on.
Below a tree stands tall, growing through the gaps and cracks of stone crumbling on the edge of the mountain. What is solid, heavy and robust seems to fade away, as if, at any moment, it could collapse and break, leaving a mist of the past, while the rest of the trees in the distance, sit silently, not saying a word.
Though, we know this isn't true. The extensive language of trees shows us again, that so much happens that we are not directly aware of. These conversations are happening all the time, in ways we may not perceive, in ways we have come to only partially understand but in which lies more mystery to be discovered, to observe silently, to ask permission of those living beings. What stories are they telling?
