IT’S OK TO STARE

No matter how I try, I can’t stop staring at her. It’s just not possible, and despite the cacophony of the honking cars behind me, carrying their frazzled and banal cargo, I slow down even more to stare.  I really don’t care, you see, she’s always there for me, no matter what weak element attempts to deface her.  It seems she laughs at the swirling blizzards, gale force winds and brutal lightning storms that force me to run for safety. So I stare, despite the forbidden consequences, devouring the view of her splendid majesty, my hands quivering slightly on the steering wheel though my breathless hunger is far from satisfied.

My absolute preference is heading due west early in the crispy clear morning that overflows with expectations, plans and thoughts of unfolding dramatic stress, yet I must always enjoy her.  I feel comfort knowing her presence never leaves me when I look for her.  Even if I don’t travel due west, I find my head turning to the west wherever I am when I need her.

If you must know more details, most of the time she is topped with white, but during the bright warmth of the summer, she sheds her white top for a while so that I can slake my thirst on her rugged natural features.  She knows my hunger and thirst won’t end, yet, she remains steadfast and fiercely confident in herself.

Sometimes in the busy race of day to day living in this world, I find myself dismayed occasionally that I’ve forgotten that I’m actually lucky to even be driving to see her, or for that matter, even breathing the air on this precious brutal earth.  So I blast my favorite music, roll down the windows and tell myself to suck in the life that was gifted back to me several years ago while knowing it is she who opens my eyes to see once again, that which is not visible to the naked eye.

I’m sure you’re thinking about where I live, and whether you can see her too.  Thing is, I’m not going to tell you where I live because clearly those ravenous novel reading paparazzi will certainly pounce on the opportunity to chase down this elusive physician novelist.  Without question, I have found a gorgeous part of the country to call my home, but I’m not going to tell you where she is.  I will protect her.  You’ll have to find her yourself if you have what it takes.

And the cars continue to honk, while I always give her my smile in the morning.

I am lucky to have her; her high alpine peak, though gently piercing the sultry blueness, fiercely tames the occasional violent but ineffective storms around her, reminding me of how lucky I am.  She scolds me softly when I stray from the knowledge and peaceful feeling of love from that time when I nearly left this world two years ago, and the gift from God who sent his angels to save me and give me another chance at life.

© SRC