“People’s lives are like trees, always growing and slowly changing.”

“Everything that surrounds me, is everything I wish for.”

“Though words were invented to describe, words cannot describe everything. Don’t feel bad, if you just can’t  explain it.”

“As I sit up here on this mountain, I see the world in a different way. When I sit here, I don’t see cities and cars, I see and feel peace.”

“Many places can be explored, you just have to look for all the treasures along the way.”

“When I came, I thought, a week without electronics, I might not make it. Now in my special spot it reminds me that the outside is just as good as the inside.”

“The most important thing, is to have fun.”

“My spot makes me feel like nothing else exists.”

“The aspens, with no leaves, look like skeletons dancing.”

“Right as this very moment I can tell that High Trails is going to be awesome.”

“Even though it is cold out, nature’s still awesome. I love all of the mountains, sunsets and trees. Everything is beautiful.”

“To say what you are going to do means nothing, doing it means evrything.”

“Climbing the mountain was pretty hard, but when we finally reached the top and saw the unbelievable view, it was all worth it.”

“I feel freezing cold on the outside, but warm and happy on the inside. I feel like I accomplished something.”

“Pike’s Peak is right in front of me, with clouds surrounding it. This is all a person can ask for.”

“It is so quiet, only the whistles of pines. Looking in front of me I see the big mountain Pike’s Peak. Looking down I see a big valley. Right now I see something that pioneers saw. I wonder how long it will be here.”

“The mountain heights shall clear the mind as well as refresh it.”

It’s a different day. The snowy peaks of the Sangre de Cristo’s are clearly visible to the West. To the East I only see the tops of two tall spruce trees, just visible over a boulder.

I take off my coat to radiate away the heat that I generated during the climb up. Now I have to put it back on to defend against the wind.

I didn’t have to come back here. My legs hurt on the way up. “One step, then another,” I told myself. I could have turned around. No one would have known. How often would I get to do this again? With reasonable luck, maybe 5, 10, 20, 30 more times? With bad luck, never. “Better keep going,” I told myself.

SUDDENLY, the sun has had its affect. Snow and ice fall from the nearby branches with crackles and tinkles. Voices burble up from the trail below. A few sniffles emanate from hidden spots among the rocks. Other than that, it’s just a few hardy birds. The wind. Me.

A faint mist permeates the trees all around. Up close, it is invisible, but in the distance it’s clearly there.

The breeze is cool, but not yet cold. I sit upon rock, mottled with gray and black lichen. It’s a place where pine trees, some stunted, eek out a difficult existence. One tree in particular  has lost its struggle, but it must have been a long one. What other, and how many, creatures have known that tree since the day it was born?