How could I resist? The morning hoar frost on the mountain beckoned me early this morning as the sun began to rise. Once my three darlings had left for school, and before I headed out to start my day, I grabbed my camera and snuck into the forest to capture the rare beauty.
I have the blood of a nomad. I never live a place for very long. It is how I was raised. And before my parents, my ancestors were nomads. They had the spirit of adventure to leave Europe and head for the New World. Living on this mountain is a record. I have lived here for eleven years.
Sometimes I think, how can I ever leave this mountain? A house I can leave. A house is a house–a shelter. And a large part of the enjoyment of a shelter is in it’s creation. But the mountain. The land. Land gets inside the blood. But then I thought about it and decided that I could come back in late spring and sit on the mountain, under the giant ponderosa trees, amongst the bunch grass and balsam root flowers. And sitting there, inhaling the scents of my mountain–I would be home again.
*Hoar frost refers to the white ice crystals, loosely deposited on the ground or exposed objects, that form on cold clear nights when heat losses into the open skies cause objects to become colder than the surrounding air.(Wikipedia)
Enjoy my photographs below:
 |
Sandra hart
Beautiful pictures Melissa! You must be feeling better today. I’m glad.
Mix Hart
Yes, a little better–fever is gone but still dragging myself about.