I grew up and spent most of my young adult life around mountain ranges.  My first experience with mountains were the ones I could see every day of my childhood and teen age years in Tucson, AZ:

I used to marvel at the beautiful colors and shadows and wasted hours trying to find a unique landmark I’d previously spotted and was positive I would see again.  Each season laid out a completely different pallete of colors from the last.  The mountains brought comfort and served as my immovable and trusty compass point.

I spent many of my summers in Denver, CO:

 

These summer friends wore a different wardrobe.  They were no less or more beautiful but completely different.  In a time before cell phones, I spent my time in the car watching every nook, cave, and rock formation as they passed my window.  

Our first move for the FBI took us to Salt Lake City, UT:

This was a strange place, almost a foreign city in the middle of the United States.  I was alone with a baby and a husband working long hours at a new career.  Neighbors were not neighborly.  I was a foreigner in that foreign city.  The mountains were my source of joy.  I understood the mountains even if I didn’t understand the people.  

I was more than grateful when it was time to move to Sierra Vista, AZ:

This was a small and friendly place.  There wasn’t much but there were mountains.  I remember taking a deep breath every time I drove the highway that ran parallel to the mountains.  

Since then, we’ve lived in 3 (going on 4) places that don’t have any mountains to speak of.  The first time we visited Virginia for our house-hunting trip, I asked the realtor if there were any mountains.  I was looking for what had become my touchstone in any new place.  He pointed to what could amount to no more than a rise in the tree line and I felt deflated.  Florida and Ohio are just as flat.  Begrudgingly, I’ve gotten accustomed to the lack of mountains over the last 15 years.  

Still,  nothing takes my breath away the way a gigantic purple Goliath of a range does. 

Every. 

           Single. 

                      Time.