We’re on the road again. Passing by a dilapidated town: Chinese Camp, where only the store still carries the town name. The list of commodities echoes the past.
Further down the road, Groveland is a thriving little town, architecture in all different shapes, high and low, speaking out the original mountain town character, yet somehow still connected with the present world.
Once entering the Sierra, it’s a different world, endless mountains, ancient yet vibrant forests, huge granite rockery, and clouds. Clouds animate the scenery and give it texture and personality. Just like facial expressions on a human face. With clouds of different shapes on top, the tall trees standing by the side frame the perfect picture from any angle.
At dusk, the mountains soften up, the lake is reflecting a rosy sky, the ripples are like string music floating over the surface. When the heart quiets down, you can feel the steadiness of the mountains, the humbleness of water. Stand back further, take it all in, so you can see a little farther, a little deeper, both to the outside world and inside. Maybe that’s the beauty of travel, through going out, you may discover the hidden scenery inside.
