09/15/2015
Out of the West, the Teton Range rises: harsh, encapsulating, and tantalizing. So high these steeples of rock and earth sit, Heaven looks up yearning to join. So powerful, they add magic to even the Sun as it sets daily behind them.
Above all is seated Grand Teton: dominating crown, throne among a hall of high and royal chairs, King of Mountains.
Glaciers, through the slow and constant work of time, have refashioned the Tetons, but in such a manner as freckles or beauty spots enhance a caricature.
Moreover, cradled between the summits lay alpine meadows, unique to the high passes of the world. There it is impossible to escape the babble of a flowing brook, the song of chirping birds, or the bellow of a buck elk; that the mountains collaborated and combined hands to be the progenitors of life and land bountiful. Thus, the fruits of their labor overflow copiously, and drain into the valley below like a flood.
And there I stand, down in the valley. The mind numbs. It is silenced, and left dumbstruck as the sheer majesty is unfathomable.
But, the soul rejoices and sings in jubilance. It shouts and roars in such a way as to drown out all bodily cries of wear and fatigue. The trail upon which I tread, one league or one thousand, it matters not. The energy of the universe has opened to me and thus a new stamina and vigor has been tapped. All worries fall to the wayside, and all previous joys are eclipsed. For the soul has come home.
Though I have spent but little time here in the Tetons, I have no qualms in calling this place a spiritual home. The heart finds rest here and will now forevermore pine for my return.
Therefore, I pass my days in the shadow of these mountains as if they were a roof under which I find respite and reprieve. In addition, the Sun daily rises and shines on in, as though the entire Eastern sky was my bedroom window. Then, akin to sitting on the hearth, the Sun baths you in warming light and reveals the dark that was night. The thunderstorms roll and boom overhead: trumpets and fanfare announcing my return.
In their turn, all other noises arise, commonplace for a joyous and full house. The waters and rivers flow and course in a constant babble alike to the home television. The birds fly about and chirp in merriment like younger relatives out in the yard for play. And, the rustling of the wind upon the trees meets your ear like bell chimes hanging atop the doorway.
In these ways, Mother Nature embraces me in her bosom, as if I were a child who has otherwise been led astray. And what choice do I have but to return the embrace? In doing so, I breathe in and find her perfume to be that of life, dirt, water, and clean air. And, I am glad, for I would not have it any other way. So, I gaze upon Mother Nature in her full form and likeness and wonder, "For what reason shall I ever leave this place?"
