Wilderness and Beauty

I find myself often comparing dancing on weekends with the time I spend up in Wilderness.

What could be the same of the mountains and dancing with a woman with waist length black hair, her right hand in my left, my arm wrapped around her waist and right hand resting on the firm of her back? She gently responds to my lead, spinning, twirling, and embrace again to the sweet sound of a violin waltz.

In the Wilderness evening I sit and listen to the night sounds, watch the forest turn from shadow to darkness, am consumed by the simplicity and beauty and the mystery.

Perhaps it is the romance that I feel so intensely in both. Perhaps the similarity lies that in both I feel more alive than in any other time in my life.