Of Mountains and Men | Teen Ink

Of Mountains and Men

December 19, 2014
By M11111 BRONZE, N/a, Washington
M11111 BRONZE, N/a, Washington
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The morning mist settled over the verdant mountain peaks as the sun rose, bright and streaked with orange and red, over the horizon. The mountains, jagged but peaceful, so large and majestic, were dotted with a sea of evergreen trees. Carpeted across the stone giants, they were so small, but so numerous, it almost seemed like a continuous flow, a blanket, of green. A ways up the mountain, where the trees grew thinner, bright, glittering sheets of unbroken snow gleamed. Not even a single print of an animal or melted-bare spot was visible. The sun’s rays reflected off the field of white in a dazzling display.


    The air was cold, but fresh- it tasted crisp and light, like it was pure or clean. The wind came in short, refreshing gusts, streaming over the landscape like waves over the shore. The nearby terrain was sparse, covered in thin grasses to remind of the place’s harshness, but also bright wildflowers to reveal its beauty. The flowers cropped up in bunches: red, blue, yellow, orange, all were more brilliant than any common variety.


    Below, a cold lake shimmered, its bright blue surface completely smooth and mirror-like. The perfect image made it seem almost like a portal into the sky above. Small water plants poked through the water, the surface beside them rippling whenever the wind blew. An area of scattered pebbles surrounded the lake, completely dry until exactly when they reached the water’s edge.


Over a hill, an elk stood proudly. Its antlers reached up into the clouds, seeming to grasp for the sky above. It seemed impossible that its head could support such a weight. The animal was the embodiment of untamedness. It’s fearless silhouette shone stark against the sunrise.


The entire scene was surreal- it was so alien yet incredibly magnificent. The huge, towering pinnacles all the way to the small, delicate patterns of the wildflowers made for a wonderful sight to behold. I sat on a short, stone wall in a parking lot at a mountain, gazing at it all in front of me. Perhaps only ten feet ahead, the grass dropped down a mile to a valley below. I thought it looked rather pretty.



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