I once scribbled a rough poem with the same title as this post, sitting on the tree stump that was then the front porch of the small cabin I built between two lakes a few miles outside the small town of Smithers, B.C. Though the view was different from there, the Presence of the mountain towered over my loneliness. Looking again today at this photo, a wide spectrum of powerful feelings is somehow summed up in a long, deep sigh.
0262 Return To Mountain
More than with the first photo I posted from that flight a few weeks ago, this one connects because we’re sitting at home with time to reflect. Being a California native that was my first real Winter, and marking the end of my first marriage it was also a very cold season of my life. How miraculous to have transcended this icy passage shouldered up to Anne’s warmth, with Tripp’s stout wings lifting us effortlessly behind the throaty song of her engine. An archetypal journey with mythical steed.
0266 Cascade of Memories
I have paused in the refreshing mists of many waterfalls since this one draining the glacier on that peak. Each has cleansed my wounds with rainbows of acceptance and awareness. Nourished my arduous climb back into the light of Loving and Understanding.
John & Anne Wiley 
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