Inside the Mountain

I remember Nan Shephard in her book, The Living Mountain, speaking about being inside the mountain.  I dont think this was simply a matter of choosing alternate prepositions ie.  in, on, of …it had to do with intimately knowing place and feeling a part of.  In the evenings as the sun slips behind the westernmost slope of the sierras which surround this valley Ive gotten into the habit of watching the swallows and martins gleefully fly above the fields below Lenador.  I sense they are out for a joy ride, the last flight of the day.  Looking out on Mt Lujar with a lemony haze of light still glowing above changing hue and tone with each passing thrum of birds wings.  The mountain appears to be exhaling, as if the entire body of rock, soil, gritty stones, roots, rises and falls the same way my chest does.  This too is being inside the mountain.  It is about relationship and seeing ourselves not as separate but as one integrated whole20031716_1107176599418609_9209145696467531526_n


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