Castles in the Mist

Deep Space. As I look out from the lip of the Valley, the wide sweep of geological time leaves a vast succession of changes; a space through which the mind may wander through the hallways of time. Here, the atmosphere is more pure, soft and revealing, where the carved hillsides are the naked reminders of ice. Here, the staircases of rock climb toward the sky, and vanish into fine smoke in the distance. The silence is all that remains, along with the wind and gathering mist. Slowly over the rise, the fog is breathed into the upper valley, over the boulder fields, and into the basin beyond. Then, as quickly as it comes, it evaporates in the sun. The land is then lit again with color. But I know another wave of fog will be here soon. And that is fine with me; what brings me to this place is the emptiness and freedom of the hills. But the trails 800 feet below were built for people passing through or in seach of dreams.