The Pleasures of the Mountains

Arizona's summer, full of surprises . . . a blast from Thor's lowland furnace. Or a cool caress of sweet mountain air . . . filtered through pine and aspen . . . swirled across crystal dappled lakes . . . out of wandering canyons alive with fresh, dancing brooks. Hundreds of miles of roads, paths and trails . . . close to the clouds . . . filling your eyes with loveliness. Expand your heart with blue misty distances . . . your soul with the glory of God's sculptured lands - leading to grottoes and sun-cradling glens . . . through ferns bent with treasures of dew. Past plush meadows spangled with daisies white, gold and lavender. Filled with bird-song . . . alongside ranks of country Susans . . . brown-eyed, with bonnets of sun . . . into proud stands of pine . . . stately spruce and fir, with aspen groves in quiver ing attendance . . . oaks in polished richness . . . so respectful in their marks of age, with gnarled trunks and twisted limbs. Busily crafting the perfection of their woodland gifts, food for turkey, deer, chipmunk, squirrel, jay and flicker.

And those jays in knighthood's feathered crests . . . rampant in flaming blue robes . . . charging the forests in loud command of the entangled airspace . . . swift to arrive on flamboyant wings . . .

swift to leave. Dapper nuthatches tidying up furrowed bark . . . hum mingbirds, those bits of stained glass and gleaming, ancient metals, hung before scarlet cups of nectar.

Forest streams . . . chuckling, laughing, talking . . . in shadowed coolness . . . bubbling into froth where polished rocks bar the way . . . against the feet of giant trees with their heads in the sun . . . along mossy banks rich in graceful growth . . . amidst young ballerina saplings reaching out over the water to catch the touch of a sunbeam . . . with craftsmen spinning platinum webs to hang the dew diamonds of dawn.