I have always loved the mountains. Ever since I can remember, I have loved them. Which is probably partially due to my love of, and longing for, Heidi's life. Not many people know this about me, as generally I come across as an Anne Shirley; living on a picturesque island, or a Laura Ingalls Wilder; discovering the great prarie, but where my heart truly lies is high up in the mountains. I like the character Heidi but, unlike other 'fans', I do not love her. I also hate the term 'fan' and so am not one. I have always seen her life in the alps as the thing to love. What I wouldn't give to live with my father, God, goats, and the glorious swiss alps. There is something about standing atop a pleateau high in a mountain; looking at the vallies and peaks around you, feeling the fresh breath of wind that seems to blow right through you and leaves you tingeling, the fresh clean air that you can never breath enough of, the great rush of wind through the trees. There I feel free. When I need to escape my life, that is where I imagine myself. It may sound corny but my heart longs for it. I feel a physical pull inside my chest, a burning, hollow sensation. Of all of God's creations for man to behold, what is more fulfilling, humbling, calming and grounding than a mountain?
I yearn for a simple life at high altitude.
And I know one day I will get there, I can feel it.