The mountain soothes my soul. Here, all is as was meant to be. Man in God’s creation. His majesty fills me. If only for a moment I belong in the design, a natural part of the landscape and rhythm of life. The crisp breeze shuffles branches and whispers across my face. A soft scent of pine mixed with the pungency of my quarry. The unmistakable scent is gone in a flash with a fickle twist of the wind.
My eyes wander across the alpine meadow spreading before me. More brilliant than gold, the sun warms the glimmering grasses from blue sky. I long for the warmth but dare not venture out of the shadows; he is close. Across the meadow, light turns to darkness as my vision ends in the dark timber that sweeps up to craggy peaks.
Timber, the haunts of giants and mystery. In a few moments, I will be stalking through its tranquil confines, each step without a sound on the needle-cushioned carpet. Somewhere in this kingdom before me a monarch roams. He gazes down through pillars of ancient trees. Long tines sweep behind him as his nostrils flare and breath steams the air. The winds rise up, telling him stories of all below while chipmunks act as sentries.
A searching bugle as pure as a hymn rises from the green canopy. Instantly my weary legs are rejuvenated and my heart rises to the occasion. He has made his move and now I will make mine.