I live in Southern Appalachia. It was always a joy , more than that, a thing of spiritual inspiration to hike to the top of a mountain somewhere, early in the morning, and look down across a vast panorama of mountains as far as the eye could see. There was a peace that rested gently on your heart and you knew, by virtue of being there , that all was right with the world.
The inspiration and peace was of such power that similar imagery would often be used to illustrate or suggest the ambiance of heaven, invoking awe through our visual sensibilities.
I find it difficult to get excited going to the top of a mountain these days. For a number of years now there has been a brown band across the horizon. Whatever this band is composed of is thick enough to blot out the sun at dawn, and lingers throughout the day.
The clouds used to mingle with the trees in these hills. Vapor so stout you could see it. I counted six crunchy caterpillars in the crunchy grass on my way out to the woodshed today.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment