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July is the perfect time of year to explore the mountains along and above timberline.
The wildflowers in full bloom, rich spotty but thick grass. Bristlecone Pine trees, leaning, sinuous and unnaturally contorted by the winds strong winter hand. Resting for the summer, gaining strength and reinvigoration from the calm sun. There is beauty in their strength and struggle. Aged and weary, yet resisting, continuously striving to live on. Their spirit among the ancients, survivors of times, generations past.
Strolling along shale slopes and boulder fields. Listening to the whistles of a Marmot, sounding it’s alarm. Watching a Rocky Mountain Big Horn Sheep, traverse a nearly vertical cliff. Wonderment at it’s deft footing, and ghostlike ability to climb effortlessly. Earth tone colors meshing and mixing, set against a vibrantly azure sky, accented by alabaster, billowy clouds. A mountain lake, effulgent sapphire water clear as glass, unpolluted and cold.
A simple silence, peaceful and pacific, a soundless music to my ears. Ascending a ridge, striving for the summit, enjoying the
inconceivable vistas stretching out below. A view of mile upon mile spread before your eyes, seemingly going on forever. The solitude, adding to the humble feeling of being on top of the world. The gifts of the mountain spirits encompassing and comforting.