Look Up

on a world where the earth meets the sky

There is a time in late winter or early spring, when the forest is no longer softened by pillows of white, but has not yet been entirely unveiled in its carpet of green. It is a mix, a mish-mash, white pockets under the shadows of trees, green clearings under the open sky.

It’s a time I often shift my gaze upward. Off the messy forest floor, away from the in-between and uneven period of not full winter and not yet spring. It’s a time I turn to the mountains, to the clouds, to the greys and blues where earth meets sky.

It’s a world where light turns ordinary into extraordinary. Where the dark mountain slopes wear crowns of blinding white. Where shapes emerge out of the grey, formed into peaks and valleys, cliffs and trees.

There one moment, faded into obscurity the next.

Up there, where it’s quiet but for the whisper, the whoosh, the howl of the wind. Wind that swirls in all directions, cresting snow-covered glaciers, pulling clouds into a dance of air and current.

Along this stage of mountains, the clouds and wind play. Revealing, hiding, lifting and dropping. Telling a story of wild things and untouched lands.

Harsh. Brutal. Epically beautiful.

Watched, admired, beloved, from a distance by a girl in the forest.

See you next time,

♡ Whitney

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