Mountain Air

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On Thursday morning, my parents drove my kids and me to the mountains. We were visiting for a week, and not until the end of our visit did the smoke, caused by Western wildfires, clear. Up, up, up we went, climbing a switchback road. We passed the ski resort where I learned to ski and enjoyed lots of fun times as a teenager. We crept along a gravel dirt road and finally parked in the visitor parking at Shafer Butte, a point in the Boise Ridge mountains that is more than 7,500 feet above sea level.

As the kids enjoyed stick collecting, chipmunk spotting, and rock climbing, I looked at the view ahead, breathed in some fresh mountain air, and made sure to store the beauty from the peak in my mind. I won’t be getting back to these foothills of the Rockies until next summer, so that memory has to keep me going for some time. When the snow settles in March for the upteenth time and I haven’t left the house in what feels like sixty days, I’ve got to come back to that moment on the mountain. That’s where the beauty of nature and life hits me hard and reminds me that we’ve all got a good thing going.

And did I mention that I revel in taking my kids to these places?

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3 thoughts on “Mountain Air”

  1. Great post Nat, and our memories will linger long, as well! And of course, those were “hills” and not “mountains”, at least as we positioned the trip to the youngest member of our crew!

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