The Mountain and The Man
The imagery of life is something, at times, we cannot explain, as in the how or why of certain things. We all tend to simply accept things for how we see them, how we found them, how they majestically lay before our eyes.
On this day as, as with almost every day during this Irish adventure, I found myself sleeping while my cousin Bobby maneuvered through the countryside. My friends know that I’m pretty much scared of everything, heights, windy roads, and the unbeaten path.
“Wake up man, you have to see this…” is all I heard and as I began to unwind from sleep with alluded me the night before, I awoke to a view taken out of movie or dream.
Here we were, an adventurer and a, a person who didn’t want to be scared of so much, a person searching for himself as well as a meaning of certain things.
We parked the car and of course I had reservations because we were literally in a place of nature and total silence. What if there were wild birds, wild pigs, Irish mountain lions, cuss wild bears, or or what if a Pterodactyl came over the mountain and grabbed my cousin (all the important what ifs)?
As we stood there, me with my cameras in tow and him with hands in his pockets, I noticed something very unique, something which I’ve experienced before but not for at least a year or so; I noticed the power of calmness.
Our lives are typically chaotic, we wake and sleep but in the middle of it all, we’re expected to live and that life is one of emails, cellphones, social media, television, kids for some, relationships for others, however in the end just stuff.
The mountain stared back at the two of us and asked us what we’d like to see. My cousin said, “Look at those clouds, there right there, we can probably touch them if we drive a little further up the road”, still sitting against the hood of our car, I softly said, “I can feel the wind…” It had been over a year since I’d felt the wind the same way as I did here at the base of the mountain.
How many mountains, metaphorically speaking stand before us in our lives and how many times do we look forward and think that we can touch said mountains in order to make them tangible, in order to make them real?
I want to feel the wind just as much as I want to touch the clouds, in essence touch the mountain.
Today, my cousin and I stood and observed both nature and life, today, I captured an image of a man who’s ready to face life head on, of course I still stood back scared of a damn Pterodactyl attack.
My mountain has no clouds but it does have a face, a face which I can touch if I simply dare to reach further than I have before in my life.
Perhaps I’ll feel the wind on the face of said mountain…