I was looking at the mountain and measuring it's beauty. it's smooth rolling base covered with scrub brush losing its green to the gold of winter time like a touch of gray in the distinguished beard of an aging professor. Inside the mountain was life, and the meaning and mystery of life. As if the first man stood upright and found the first woman and lead her into a fertile valley where, together they created the human race. And then the mountain rose from the valley and sealed them inside, immortalized and eternalized. Still living there smiling at the shelter and wisdom that surrounds them. Smiling and loving with no worries of tomorrow or forever.
Higher up the mountain roughens with the wisdom of weathered time. The crevasses roll deep and edgy to the top of it's brave jagged prehistoric peak. It's courage, wisdom, and benevolence kissing the sky.
On the otherside of the mountain lies the pacific ocean. Cold and restless and swarming in life, sex, and sea creatures. She is the queen of the world, providing us with weather and breath and intoxicatingly desirable mystery. Like that first man walked from her beautiful fertile womb into the valley where the mountain now stands and created the earth. And the mountain stands tall and noble protecting her and her jewels. And she is cold, cold in her knowledge that the world is hers and that she created it and could destroy it. I thought of all this history, this mystery, this infinite beauty of life and I compared it to your smile. The mountain crumbled in defeat.
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