17 December 2008

Why painted pink mountains?

I thought for a long time about starting a blog, and had a ridiculously hard time coming up with a name for it. I shelved the idea for a while, figuring that one day, a name would come to me, and it might not be perfect, but it would fit and I'd know it.

I have a fairly long commute. The first 15-20 minutes are all back roads. Beautiful, scenic back roads that wind over orchards and around farmland and through woods.

About two miles into it, I come to the top of a hill. Upon cresting that hill, a breathtaking scene comes into view. Orchards to the right, fields to the left, hills & valleys as far as I can see that swim all along the horizon. Every season paints a different story. Overcast days in the crisp fall air are my favorite with the fog laying in blankets over the land, allowing the tall pine trees to peek out over top.

One morning, late autumn, the sun was rising brightly as I topped that hill. Everywhere I looked, it's light beamed down on the mountains far ahead of me, painting them all pink. It hit me how much I love this part of the drive. Even if it is a long drive, and the last 20-30 minutes is spent on a highway, or sitting in stop & go traffic, I find it a wonderfully peaceful start to my day.

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40. mother. earth lover. mover. creater.