April 29th

There simply aren’t words to describe what it is like to stand here. I can see easily a hundred miles or more into the distance. The shapes and curves of the mountains run about around me. The gentle changes in colors from the various trees look like some kind of sedimentary rock, showing striations of the centuries brushed across like paint on a canvas. In the farthest distance, the air turns almost to a mist as horizon melds the sky and air, not as a clear line but as a meshing of fabrics. I see houses like small chalk stains in the grass, and roads like small lines cut through sand. I find myself wishing I could spend days here looking out, hearing stories about the mountains that surround me. I can easily believe why so many cultures have worshipped the mountains and the sky and the land when I stand here, because I see them all in a beauty and glory that is wholly revealed, with no veil to hide them. This is absolute magnificence, and I can barely breath as I see it


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