I’m back in the Rocky Mountains, and I know this truth: What’s above me–the glorious expanse of it that I cannot contain within the scope of my vision–is just as marvelous as what’s barely visible here beneath my feet.
From this height, I remember the beauty of what grows in the Alpine Tundra.
You will not notice these flowers unless you observe what you trample. I’m missing so much wonder in my scrambling to the top.