The view from the top is magnificient. I always knew that but today confirmed, once again. My "fine figure of a man" asked me if I would want to live high on a mountain top. I'm not sure if that was a question I wanted to answer. High on top as in feeling the mountain breeze. High as in listening to the sounds of that breeze gailing through the tree tops. High on top as in total seclusion. Sometimes it sounds pretty good. Comforting. My inner self mocks my thoughts. Thoughts that want to insulate. Insulate from the sorrow that has become a reality. A mocking I strain to push away and fill with truth. Truth that sets free.
We walked a steep hill to the Lookout. The views from the top were amazing. The clouds, in various stages of wind and rain, were beautiful with the blend of light with dark. The old dilapidated tree was in full bloom and served as a filter in which to view the valley floor below.
Pretty sure we'll be taking this trek again.
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