The Orphan, The Mountain Man, and The Miraculous Air

Just a friendly note, this post is picture heavy.  I am only sharing some of my favorites.  You're welcome.

Years ago, when someone was ill, especially if it was chronic, they were advised to go to the sea.  Something about the sea air was very healing for them.  I am going to have to echo that advice, though with one alteration.

If something ails you, head to the mountains.

Friday I was a big grouchy grump.  Not exactly sure why.  It took me all morning to get myself and the kids ready, but around noon I managed to get things ready to go.  As we were heading towards the door, Faye disappeared.  I had to grab something from the basement, when I came back up, I found Faye in the kitchen.

Evidently, she was hungry.

Yes, that is sugar on a plate.

When I cleaned her sugar binge off, I piled them into the van, and we headed up into the mountains, take two.

I always wish I had a chauffeur when I drive through the mountains, regardless the time of year.  That is my favorite place in the world to be.  Anywhere in the mountains is perfect.

We got to Silver Lake, piled out of the van, and inhaled deeply.

The feast for the eyes was just as cleansing as the pristine air was for the lungs.

The car ride up the kids chatted softly while we listened to some ambient indie music.  We all watched the trees stream past the windows, a kaleidoscope of anticipation and colors.  I probably should have watched the road a bit more than I did.  It really is hard for me, when there is so much beauty in which to sink the gaze and get lost in the wanderings of thought provoking allure, focusing on the road seems a waste of attraction.  See, I told you I need a chauffeur.

 I magically pulled our jackets out of Keith's backpack, and both kids oohed and aahed.  It made me laugh.  They had no idea I had that much forethought.  Honestly, though, it was sublime. The sparkling frosty air was exactly what we needed.  Not cool enough to make us uncomfortable, just enough to make us deliriously rosy and  adventure ready.  We headed to the lake, and all that ailed us seeped out into the wholesome air.
This heart shaped puddle was especially fulfilling to splash in.
We strolled around the lake twice.  The first time was cloudy and dreary and romantic.  The second time around, the sun came out as did the kids own romantic flair, which would have impressed any thespian.

It began with Faye.  She had been dawdling a bit, and I looked back to see her looking dejectedly at the ground as she scuffed her feet through the dirt.  Little swirls of dirt pooled up around her, emphasizing the sorrowful expression on her face.

I stopped walking and watched her, as she continued to plod forward, stopping only when she bumped into me.  I asked her what was wrong, and she looked up at me, eyes bright and doleful.
"I don't have a mom or dad.  I am all alone." She whimpered.

Keith jumped in on the action.

"And I am a hunter who lives in the mountains and while hunting llamas, I find her."

With that, Keith took Faye's hand, and they walked away.
"But you didn't give me any food or a house, yet!" I heard her say.

I had to laugh.  My little orphan.
They wandered the mountains (aka the boardwalk along the lake) demanding I take pictures to document their travels and adventures.  The all encompassing beauty and their creativity made it easy to comply.
 Sometimes, though, they would get tired and stop for the night.  Keith was so sacrificing and always made sure the orphan had a soft warm place to sleep.
They would hunt and occasionally fish for their food.  
 When they were especially lucky, they would have duck for dinner.  But most nights it was berries and caterpillars.
 Once, they found the entrance to a dwarf mining cave.  They opted to not enter as dwarfs tend to get a little possessive of their jewels, and that possessiveness can turn violent under their suspicion.
My favorite part was when they stopped to "get to know each other."

Keith asked "How did your brother die?"

With her head tipped back, eyes closed, tongue hanging out and arms thrown back, Faye said "Like this.  AAAaaaacccccckkkkkk!"

 I laughed, good and long.  Ignoring me, Keith went on "No, I mean did the *German's kill your brother?"

Indignantly, Faye retorted "I did NOT kill my brother!"
We continued on our way, frequently stopping so they could keep up their charade.
When it was time to go home, Faye did not want to leave.  Happily, Keith took her hand, and they ran ahead of me.  He is such a great brother.  Gosh, I love that boy.
We climbed back into the van, and on our way out of the parking lot, I had to pull over for one last picture.

The first red tree!  I wish there had been more red.  I really missed that color.  Red leaves are my favorite.  At last, though, I found some, and they were breathtaking.

I love living where I live.  The mountains mere minutes away, and the fireworks of fall so close, the fear of being singed is very real and makes autumn in Utah intoxicating.

Really, sea air may be good, but mountain air is simply miraculous!

Even for orphans.

*As a bit of a back story, Keith is fascinated with Germans and WWII.  Mainly because he has 2 great grandfathers who fought in it.  We have told him countless times that we are now friends with the Germans, but he still likes to pretend.


Terra said…
Jen over at sabbatical mom recently did the same thing. And I have to agree. the mountains are a glorious place to pass the time, remember the beauty and feel whole. Someday...I will be out of the city
Familia Morales said…
Precious! I love the pictures, so beautiful! I miss the mountains. I'm excited for when our leaves start turning--I think we'll be going on a lot more hikes and drives when that happens.
Trish said…
So, down in Texas its technically still summer. Like- deep summer. Not cool enough to be autumn. One more month of this and then autumn will begin. So, I'm kind of jealous seeing the pictures in this post. Hopefully I can enjoy the autumn in Utah next year! We'll see!

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