Brown

You wake up in a great fog. You love fogs like these; they bring mystery and adventure to your mornings. The blanketing ghost surrounds you. It slowly gives way to reveal a rocky formation at your feet. As it recedes, your environment begins to take shape. Your eyes follow the fog across rocks and down the slope of a cliff into wilderness below. The ghost descends upon a lake, climbs over more woods, then into a magnificent range of peaks beyond. You stand on top of a mountain. What a view! You wonder which animals call these rocky heights the world. And what place will you call it? The thought of ever climbing such beastly formations makes you shiver. You peer into the open air. A few thoughts later, you notice a small pack at your feet, among the brown rocks and green moss. Icepicks, hiking boots, coiled rope, the works...you have everything you need. Now the looming monsters beckon like an obstacle course! Courage takes hold of your ravenous side. Your howl echoes through the gorge. But as you begin descending in pursuit of challenge, you reconsider things. What exactly are you trying to find? Would mounting some great summit leave you better off? Surveying your surroundings once more, you spot a little ridge by the lake. It seems to call you; not threatening, but not wimpy either. It looks ideal. At last, you have chosen your mountain. First you feared the range like some impenetrable wall. Then your urge to conquer took control. Now you wish nothing more than to build a small cabin by the lake, neither low nor high. You do not have to ascend the rungs of glory to experience fulfillment. You are a vine in the rock, a fire in the fog.