 |
Last Spring, in Vermont, heading back to Quebec |
When I am
in flat or mountainless territory
it feels like a piece of the background's gone missing.
When I am
in cities that build skyward, stacking
their residents in
vertical
towers, it feels claustrophobic
in a way
that mountains towering over and enclosing me
don't.
I need
to see mountains like some need to smell the sea;
feel their thereness, their accessibility
to
mitigate the reminder of their
absence.
I only
know Vermont, New Hampshire, and Pennsylvania mountains,
(and a
glimpse, once, of the Alps, which
took my
breath away. Literally.)
I would
not fare well in the desert, methinks.
Or
places that know no snow.
Environment
... how it molds us,
nourishes us,
erases us,
changes us,
defines
us.
Missing
those mountains when I re-see this old snapshot.
