On Mountain Time
Well, it turns out that no amount of stubborn denial and refusal to pack can actually stop a great vacation from coming to an end. The day to go back to real life arrived without my consent, and here I am back in Boston.
I did miss the city, and am so excited for all the things to come- but it’s never easy leaving my mountain home. There’s something that happens when you leave behind skyscrapers and train stations for rivers and valleys. It might take a few days to stop obsessively checking your email and writing to-do lists, but eventually, mountain time takes over.
Your days start to revolve around things that are unimportant in a city- what time the sun sets, how much it snowed overnight. You wake up early to catch the untracked powder after a storm, or stay up late to see the stars on clear nights. Quiet moments come often- encountering a herd of elk on an afternoon hike or getting lost in a book without anything to pull you away from it.
This year, I’ll be finding time for the mountains whenever I can.
“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity…”