I’ve needed this silence. The sounds of loosely-waving aspen leaves is crisp clear as the mostly noiseless wind winds through mountainous forests. The sky is massive. At night, millions of stars and galaxies appear and shooting stars leave traces of light across the deep blue atmosphere for a few seconds. Through the blend of silences and the mountain sounds, I can sense the vastness of this land.
The other evening, wrapped up in many layers and sipping hot tea, I sat on the deck. My neck and head perched on the back of the chair. I hadn’t seen such a big sky, saturated with stars, in a long time. I focused on the distance between the stars and earth. There’s a lot of space out there. After some time, the brilliantly orange moon rose in the distance over charcoal coloured ragged mountain silhouettes.
The next morning I woke up and hurried out to watch the sun rise over the same mountain. The air was chilled, but as the sun rapidly ascended, my skin was warmed by the glowing light.
The smell of sun-warmed pine. The crackling sounds of dried pinecones and needles and crisp yellow leaves. The feel of the bitter breeze on balmy skin, on blushed cheeks and stiff ears. Chilled hands holding hot cups of tea. Wood burning all day. Enormous blue skies. Curious birds. Arbitrary snowfall. Pitch black nights.