“All mountain landscapes hold stories:
the ones we read,
the ones we dream,
and the ones we create.”
I have loved mountains since I was little girl growing up near the Rocky Mountains in Canada. I love their rugged, soaring beauty, their slightly terrifying wildness that compels you to look but maybe not touch.
I’ve never had a desire to actually climb them. The thought of dizzying heights and scraggly trails wending along sheer rock faces brings me no pleasure whatsoever. But I dearly love looking at them.
And driving between them.
My friend Margo took me for a drive through the Italian Alps near Vogogna one gorgeous Autumn afternoon.
We were both exhausted from months of hard work on various projects, and it was pure bliss to close our laptops, shut our notebooks and head out into sunshine and crisp mountain air.
Our road took us along icy mountain streams, perfectly clear as they tumbled over rocks and under bridges.
We meandered through pretty little villages marked by gorgeous stone buildings and cows wearing gigantic bells around their necks.
We got out to explore a wonderful old church with murals on the outside of the building. I’d never seen anything like that before. It made me feel good somehow to know that the builders of this church shared its beauty with anyone who looked at it, not just those who entered its doors.
Just below the church sprawled a cemetery with truly exquisite views of the towering mountains. I found the weathered stone crosses so beautiful.
I liked this home built next to the church, topped with staggered terraces festooned with flowers, vines, and fruit trees. What a wonderful escape from the world on spring and summer days.
The stone seats below must be so warm in the glow of a late afternoon sun. I’d love sitting there with dear friends, sharing a bottle of wine and visiting contentedly as the sun set.
Eventually we abandoned our happy meanderings and headed higher up into the Alps.
The views that awaited us were stunning.
Click here to see what we saw from the top of the Alps above Domodossola.
What are your feelings about mountains?