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Flying over the snow-capped Rockies magnifies the glories of God’s creation. The majesty of that massive collection of peaks and valleys is overwhelming. I was flying to southern California from Chicago.
As we flew over the Rockies, I felt like we were frozen in time. The terrain
below traded between endless brown masses and gentle white blankets. The
contrasts drew even more attention to the incredible size of the mountainous
range. Occasional willowy puffs of white gave license to the imagination that conjured
up images of old smoke signals or smoldering volcanoes. Science would probably
explain the phenomenon as clashing temperature zones causing the moisture in
the air to be more steam-like. But, that explanation is for the scientist. For
me, I prefer the images of roaming buffaloes and nestled tribes holding
conversations about the next hunt.

“The buffalo are close,” one tribe has signaled.

“How soon before the hunt begins,” replies the other.

“Soon, very soon,” responds the first.

All this as the stately mountain goat climbs steadfastly among the step slops searching for thawing streams and the promise of spring.

Suddenly, there is a pass below between the mountains. What left those long, strange tracks?

Like the peaks of my mother’s whipped egg whites, the mountain peaks stand defiantly against the cloudless sky before giving way to a patchwork quilt spread smoothing over the terrain.

I shall remember to look down again.

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Comment by Bobby Z on April 5, 2010 at 12:23am
my dad was an airline pilot so i got the thrill of buzzing around in my childhood on endless plane rides staring hauntedly at clouds....too young to even be afraid.....crazy really.......
p.s. hope you like our music and poetry
Comment by Lucie K. Lewis on April 2, 2010 at 5:51pm
Thank you Signe. I enjoyed your post very much.
Comment by Signe Miranda on April 2, 2010 at 3:00pm
That's beautiful! I just saw your post after I posted what I wrote on the plane, while looking down on beauty of the earth.



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