Thanks, Ranger:

I've been gone for two and a half weeks, and have missed Mudcat, but I don't think I'll try to catch up on the political threads. If I want to get riled up, I can do that, reading the newspaper. And, despite how upset I get, life does indeed go on. When there's something I can DO, then I try to do it. But, so little seems to be within my control that I have to separate out what I am responsible for, and what is not in my hands, and has to be given up. Each of us has our own spin on that. I just try not let the days slip away unappreciated, while I'm ranting about something I can do so little about.

How about a quiet mountain peak? Man, you want to talk about seeing yourself in perspective! When my wife and I were in Wyoming last week, we drove up and across the northern end of the Big Horn mountains. When we reached the top, at an elevation of well over 9,000 feet, it was completely snow-covered. There's something about being up in a mountain that I think almost everyone is moved by, whether it's John Denver and his Rocky Mountain High, or the closeness to God that is endlessly repeated in the bible, from Moses meeting God, to Jesus taking Peter, James and John on a mountain to meet Moses, Elijah, and God. Whatever anyone's faith, you can't
help but be deeply moved by the majesty of the mountains. My wife Ruth had never seen the Rockies, and she was overwhelmed by the experience. I'm sure it's the same if you're in the Alps or the Andes. There is a brilliance to the light and a crispness to the air that makes you feel hyper-alive. When we were on the top of the Big Horns, we ran into a wildly swirling snow storm. It was exciting, and a little frightening because we realized how far away we were from all the safety of civilization, and there was almost no traffic on the road. But, within a couple of miles, we'd driven through the storm and were blinded by dazzling sunlight and a panorama of the valley below that reduced us to silence. There is beauty that creates poetry or songs, but sometimes, silence and thanksgiving seems to be the only possible response. It is in those moments when our daily frustrations, anger and violence seems to pale against the backdrop of creation.

Everyone can put their own interpretation of an experience like that, and I don't question or belittle whatever it is. The best that you can do is to let the beauty wash over you, and filter into every ounce of your body. No need to try to epxlain it, or understand it, or even comment on it.

Silence works fine.

Jerry