… for the next one. So, everything’s new, once again. But before everything was able to be new, everything was still old’good and there had a mission to be accomplished: absorb as much ‘mountain’ as possible. Such a call needed to be followed as best as one could, which in the end resulted in a very-last-minute pack-up action and not a lot of sleep at all. It just had to. This, in turn, almost lead to my aeroplane leaving without me, but this time, luckily not quite. So here are some impressions from the last three mountain-weeks before departure.
What you see here is paradise. But also, home, Heimat, Dahoam. Indeed, being in a position to use those two words as synonyms encapsulates a feeling beyond words; Realizing, over and over again, that the place you are fortunate enough to call home is actually the most beautiful place you can possibly imagine is something like deep, deep-down happiness. I use the word happiness here because when I find myself out in those places accompanied by close friends, gazing around, I am simply happy, nothing else. Happy and satisfied in a way that no material good whatsoever, no job, no achievement, no nothing could otherwise give me.
Simply sitting (or rather hanging, belaying) on a pillow of rough moss, watching some thin clouds dissolve over a peak, enjoying that slight tickling feeling of a butterfly licking up some of sweat from your scratched skin, well that is it, that is living. Exhaling, realizing: home, paradise. That is what must be pure happiness.
Too much public sentimentality? Naah, the pictures disagree. So, go about and find yours, if you haven’t yet. There are only so many chances, and counting.