View From the Top

My happy place. Encompassed by towering pines and golden aspens, bathed by a brilliantly warm sun, while breathing the pure, crisp and cool air - standing in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. Enjoying some much needed time alone as husband and wife, Eric and I ventured into the heart of the Colorado mountains, seeking nothing but adventure. We had no schedule, no reservations of any sort, and for the first time in a long time, time was on our side. Visiting an area we once called home, Eric and I trampled our old stomping grounds, and explored a few new places as well - one of which was Steamboat Springs.

An old friend's wedding brought us back out to the mountains that I love. A beautiful ceremony in the middle of an aspen grove, the sound of the trembling aspen leaves whispering in the background of two people professing their love to one another - a perfect reminder of what Eric and I were seeking last weekend as we embarked on this trip - a rekindling of our love, in a place marked by beauty and memories.

One of our favorite things to do while traversing through the mountains is just to drive - with nowhere in mind, no destination foreseen. Eric enjoys searching for beautiful homes. They inspire him, giving him ideas on how to plan for building our own future home. I, on the other hand, tend to keep my eyes peeled for state parks and roadside stops with trails that venture into the unknown. During one of these drives, where Eric was admiring the timber frame mountain homes and I was appreciating the beauty of the fall colors splashed across the towering slopes, the road dead ended at a hiking trail - Fish Creek Falls. It was a no-brainer for me to get out of the car. Any trail with "falls" in the title has me - hook, line and sinker. We had a few water bottles and some trail mix that we threw into a back pack, and we were on our way.

It was a quick 1/4 mile jaunt to the first waterfall. As we descended into the valley, the growing sound of the waterfall served as our guide. A bubbling creek with swirling eddies behind every protruding rock bordered our path on the right, and a sharp upward slope of pines sprinkled with fresh snow on our left kept us on course. A wooden bridge led us across the stream, with a picturesque view of the cascading falls before us. I could almost taste the clean mountain water in the air as the water rolled and turned over the smooth, interrupting rocks. The sound of the falls echoed in the canyon, creating a steady roar that vibrated in my chest. The waterfall stood at 283 feet. A mighty beauty to behold.

Fish Creek Falls

 

 

 

As we crossed the bridge, we overheard a couple of hikers talking about another waterfall 2.5 miles up into the mountains. Another no-brainer. We began the trek that led us out of the canyon, up the side of a mountain, through forests of pines and aspens, and along snowy and slushy trails. Eric and I have been on quite a few hikes throughout the Rocky Mountain range, and this was by far one of the most breathtakingly beautiful trails.

 

The bright warm sun broke through the stretching trees creating freckles of moving light on the forest floor. Emerald green moss blanketed the rocks, the powdery snow clinging to the soft sponges. The sound of the falls became a distant hum as we climbed further up the mountain. Cold drops of melting snow kissed our foreheads as we walked under the canopy of pine trees. The earthy scents of the various pine trees all intermingled into a fresh spicy scent that left me longing for Christmas time. The sun shown through clusters of bright red berries encapsulated by snow, which gave the appearance of jewels embedded in crushed diamonds.

 

Every turn, every step we took, lended itself to a more beautiful view. A grove of tall, stretching aspens greeted us as we neared the 2 mile mark. The quaking, delicate round leaves were the only proof that there was any wind at all. The honeyed leaves were ethereal - adorning the trees like a net of golden flecks. I could sit and listen to their hushed melody all day long. The smooth white bark reflected the sun's rays, illuminating the path that meandered through the forest.

 

Aspen leaves

 

Soon after the forest of aspens, we encountered some rocky and slippery terrain which the melting snow had turned into a trickling stream bed. Clusters of wild sage grew in the clefts of the rocks. We followed the rock path higher and higher until the sound of rushing water alerted us to the second waterfall nearby. The view at the top is always worth it. No matter the obstacles - the sludge covered trails, the thinning air, the slippery rocks - the view is always worth the work. Always.

  

 

As I looked out past where we had come from, I could see for miles and miles. The valley walls opened up to sweeping slopes that rolled on and on. The shifting clouds gave the illusion that the hills were moving and breathing. Something is awakened in me when I stand in the heart of the mountains - like a dream that becomes reality or a wish being fulfilled. The untouched beauty of the mountains, so majestic in nature, invites my heart to sing. As an artist, every view inspired me to want to paint. And as my mind narrated my journey through the mountains, and my eyes took snapshots of breathtaking views, and my nose captured scents that Yankee Candle could never match, and my ears were fancied by the sounds of nature's heartbeat, and my lungs breathed the cleanest and purest air - I thought about how much God must be delighting in me, delighting in His creation. I wonder if He just took His fingers, as He was Creating, and ran them along the earth... molding it like clay... his finger tips forming valleys, the mountains building up in between. The wilderness, in all of its glory and splendor, invites us to be still before its Creator - the beauty around us nothing but a dazzling display of God's love for us and a desire to reveal a bit of Himself to us - a mere glimpse of His glory and splendor.