The mountain has its own time zone. Time becomes moss on rocks, becomes shadow on trees, becomes a tender fawn on the meadow. Sunlight is playing with the rocks, peeking through a giant boulder, lighting up a tiny little grass, like spotlight hovering on stage. The Deer becomes a guide leading you deep into the heart of the mountain. Once you’ve seen the raw side, the aliveness inside, you will never look at the mountain the same way.
There’s something about the mountain, ancient but full of life, simple but always compatible to evolving life.
