At the bottom of the mountain

I have not had the opportunity to spend a lot of time in Colorado.

While I loved high school church camp up there in Rocky Mountain National Park, I think experiences like that could have been just as good nearly anywhere in the nation (except Texas).This past week, I got to spend a couple days in Boulder, and then a few more in Denver. I didn't meet lots of people, and I didn't act like a tourist. Mostly, I just hung out with my friends and stared at the beautiful mountains there to the west. Beautiful. Big rocks. Steep steep inclines. Green. Jagged. To me, the only drawback is that they make the western horizon quite tall, and therefore direct sunlight even more scarce.


I just can't get over the metaphor of living at the bottom of the mountains--mountains like that, that are so new and rugged on a global scale. And there are just so many metaphors.So I started to think--which one represents my current location? Am I preparing for the trek of a lifetime? Am I living in the shadow of something overwhelming? Am I resting triumphantly after the trek of a lifetime? Am I in a holding pattern--not brave enough to try to conquer something so formidable?


I don't actually know, but if awe and peace are the overwhelming emotions when I look at those mountains, I'm not worried.