Mountains

 I just love mountains. Whether it’s the view once you get up to the top, or staring up at a magnificent snow-capped peak from the valley below, they have a presence that dominates. I have spent many serene moments sitting t the top of a pass and staring at the scenes around me. I can’t think of too many more relaxing things to do.

There is silence. There is often a gentle, cool breeze drifting down from above. There is the sun that glistens off the top of the peaks, where the snow and ice still hugs the rock.

At night you can still feel the presence of the mountains towering over you. They have a sense of weight, of gravity, pulling you towards them. They block out the stars with their bulk and the ice reflects the twinkling stars.

Lying on your back watching the clouds swirl around a peak, each little eddy curling back on itself; listening to the rumbling of distant avalanches; sinking your hands into the fresh icy snow as you sit looking down into a valley from the top of a mountain; drinking a cup of lemon tea as you just appreciate the serenity; these are all magical experiences.

There is just something very comforting about mountains; they provide an aesthetic experience, and if you are so inclined, a physical one. A world without mountains would be a poor world indeed.

Table Mountain (7100m), taken from the village of Chozo on the Snowman Trek in Bhutan, 2007)