Amy Quest: mountain time

the high country has been calling--we are blessed with a few months where the peaks have emerged from under snow caps, and the colors of the western slope come alive. one of the most distinctive aspects of the mountains here are the sandstone and mineral deposits layered through the southwest geology, which results in so many bright yellow, red and orange striations and crumbly scree summits. the various sediments and the moisture, the cold soil temperatures and high altitude and the short season where the ground is without snow give us, in addition to our colorful earth tones, an eruption of wildflowers in bright pinks, florescent purples, reds, yellows, and blues. in any case, it's imperative to schedule time to be in the mountains right now (i have at least a day a week designated to "mountain" for the next 2 months), because the season is so short and the result of spending even a few hours in this kind of environment has an immeasurable impact on the soul. somehow, all the beauty makes sense. i've discovered that i often have moments when i'm in this beautiful space where my emotional, physical, or psychological pains become equally pronounced--i can gaze at them like flowers, admire their intricacies, and give them over to the wonder of the natural world without the need to make them who i am, despite my desire to pick them all and keep them as my own. the human condition, at high altitude, is obvious but not endemic. i may be just speaking for myself (but i also have a strong feeling that i'm not): there is a heightened awareness of an undeniable presence of something bigger than all we say there is in the mountains. read that how you will, and if you want to experience it, come visit. we'll go for a walk and every cell in your body will sing the same song, and you'll know what i mean.

here's a few shots from a recent hike up engineer mountain:

elephant head flower, amongst other lovely specimens