Mountain Silence

It's quiet.
So so quiet.
I am sitting outside on the balconey that overlooks the entire valley and mountain range.
Birds chirp in the distance. Trees rustle gently.
That's it.
We are up here by ourselves. And it feels like this mountain is our own.
The air is fresh, mountain air. The kind that smells like forest and earth.

God's expansive mountainous landscape is set before me and I sit amidst it all.
Green covered mountains are at our height and a bit higher with no homes and no powerlines. Untouched land. This is true North Carolina and it is glorious. I feel like I can reach out a touch the mountains and yet they are across the valley.

Sitting out here on our wooden plank balconey, I am perched on top of the world with so much space to expand my thoughts and imagination. Lofty, dreamy air is fresh and moist. Weather changes momentarily, and we can see it coming and going.

They're called the Blue Ridge Mountains for a reason. A misty grey shade of blue are the mountains that make up the skyline against the white foggy clouds and breaks of blue sky.

They are also called the Smokey Mountains for a reason -- the way the wispy white clouds rise from the valley between all the peaks, it resembles smoke rising to the great reaches of the sky. It is dramatic and beautiful and invokes a sense of smallness in me. That I am able to sit here with a view of God's big-ness, which is just a tiny glimpse, I feel tiny.
But to feel small in relation to God is an inspiration. I don't want to feel big in a small world, but rather a tiny piece of a big, beautiful world with so much to discover and appreciate.