A Summer Place

I had to get outside in the so-called summer heat this afternoon.  As I walked away from the turnout just past Moose junction I realized how I see something that messes with my reality everyday.  It doesn't take a lot to do that especially since my definition of reality is so hazy in the first place.  I look up see something like this

 and I am stirred because there are no trees like this where I came from.  I might have gotten close enough to see if it was a Lodgepole pine, because Joseph recently defined those for me.  But no, I walked on.

 Ah this brings homesickness.  Nothing lifts my soul higher than a sunny day witnessed from the shade, an unblinking picture that goes on forever... well until sundown anyway.  And the desire to enter this picture and sort of shuffle around.

 As I walked back I stared out over the hills and saw how the pines seem to pour down the furrows of the hills, most likely from pinecones rolling downhill when they fall (4 years of college helped this hypothesis along).  I wondered if you could trace the ones at the bottom to the ones at the top.