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Originally Posted by Love-it In the mountains, especially in the High Sierra wilderness, polished granite, small springs with tiny wildflowers and lower down pocket meadows and mountain heather, trees bent by the wind and twisted, gnarled, desd trunks of ligtning killed pines weathering at altitude. The smell of wildness. |
Yes, alone, high in the Olympic Mountains, with the wind howling, and the small pine trees singing, the mountains standing against a bright blue sky, and the streams gently rushing by... alone, that is where I feel most alive.
Every day seems so long, when you are alone, every adversity a challnge to be relished, every moment to be captured.
Sprinkle in some marijuana, and I feel in complete communion with the wilderness.