Mountains & freedom 

Here goes trying to hash out why this moment feels so free.
I’ll start with a description: I’m sitting in be back of the car, watching as we wind through pine trees and boulders, crossing mountains. We’re listening to David’s playlist on Spotify, a combination of indie and folk music rife with harmonies. The sun is soaking the mountain in waves. Every so often Lacey, who occupies the front seat, looks back at me for a head scratch. It smells like wilderness. The Boulder creek winds to our right, following the switchbacks of the road. 


Being with those I love is, I think, a great part of it. David is a quiet and peaceful travel partner, allowing time to absorb the world and blue sky. Lacey is one of my best friends too and in her own way brings a sense of gentle peace. 


The breeze filtering through the open windows lends itself to the atmosphere, playing with my ponytailed hair and feeling warm and soft. 
The movement of driving through mountains ~ this is the essential element of freedom. I am passing the lives of millions of creatures and life forms and witnessing all in silent gratitude. I have nothing to think about except movement and life, which are one and the same. 


Finally, the mountains. My soul was made for the mountains. Their ancient quietude, with light slipping from angle to angle, brings me home. 

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