The overnight rain has left us with a dull and overcast day today and the view over Mount Warning, the magical mountain, has changed yet again.
Today, Mount Warning has had her head in and out of the clouds, which is not surprising, when her peak stands at 1,156 metres, or 3,793 feet high. The photo above clearly shows a large cloud mass beginning to move to one side, revealing her head again. To make the photo larger, just click on it.
The view today is bringing back reminders of my years as a teenager. Always the dreamer, my own head lived permanently in the clouds. My mother often pointed out the similarities between myself and the mountain!
Each morning I would head off to school on foot. A bus service could have collected me from my own front door and also dropped me home in the afternoon, but I wasn’t interested in the bus. I walked.
My trip to school saw me walking along the pedestrian path, over the bridge of the Tweed River. In the heat of the hottest summer’s days, a refreshing breeze blew along the river; my arrival to school always came sooner than I wished it would.
The idea of any kind of danger didn’t cross my mind. I enjoyed my lone walks every day. They cleared my mind, I was happy, and the mountain protected me, all the way there.
During high school I struggled with Maths and I blame the mountain. It had greater plans for me each maths lesson. Sitting at my desk beside the window, with an outlook over cane fields leading across to the mountain, it would have me mesmerized, leaving me unable to comprehend the meaning, or use of algebra.
In my first guest post at The Calm Space, I spoke of the inspiration Mount Warning has given me throughout my life. You can read that post here.
Now I find myself praying for fine weather; it’s time to take another trip into the mountain. How many years has it been? I don’t remember. All I know is, it has been way too many.
I recall the winding road, on a steep incline, ending, I think, about three kilometres from the peak of the mountain. At close range, the mountain is eerie and mystical; it has a soul all of its own, an old soul. And it’s a kind and protective soul.
At the point where the road ends, a picnic clearing is surrounded by massive rainforest trees, covering the high altitude area of the mountain. Bush turkeys used to live there; I wonder if they still do? I remember the high pitched trilling of birds calling out to each other, high up in the branches of the ancient trees. A gentle stream of water ran through the rocks on the floor of the rainforest, meandering in and out of the bases of the trees.
It will be interesting to find out if the pictures in my mind’s eye, from so long ago, are still accurate.
What do you see in your own life, that special “something” that you know with absolute certainty will inspire you, lift your spirits and pour energy into your day?