Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Snug as a bug in a rug

As Denny and I sit here eating dinner the mountains across the roadway from the campground are slowly disappearing behind a cloud of dust. The winds have been slowly building today, at times gusting hard enough to rock the trailer on its wheels. A low pressure system is moving in and we can feel the temperature starting to drop. We certainly won't be taking our evening walk tonight; we're not anxious to eat dirt, thank you very much.

The disappearing mountains remind me of the weather-forecasting rock. You know the one that is tied to a rope and hung from a tree branch? You look out your window and if the rock is wet, it's raining, if it's white it's snowing, if you can see the rock clearly it's sunny, if it's hard to see it's cloudy outside, if the rock is moving it's windy and if the rock is gone there's a tornado? The mountains have been like that this week. One day distant rain clouds devoured the top half of the mountains this week, on another day high clouds dappled them like an Indian paint pony, and most days the crevices and craggy peaks stood out in sharp relief in the brilliant sunlight.

Having grown up in the mostly flat state of Ohio, mountains fascinate me. Their sheer size astounds me, the variations of rock type, color and textures fascinate me and their beauty draws me. I now know that wherever we finally settle, there will be mountains to watch at sunrise and sunset and the many hours in between. Even if they sometimes disappear.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Last summer we drove through the Rockies. Being a prairie girl I was, at times, intimidated by their magnitude and constantly in awe of their grandeur. We stayed for a couple of days in Banff. The weather conditions changed several times in the course of a day. My husband said that it was like the mountains made their own weather.. and I think he was right.

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