A number of years ago a dear friend took me on a four-hour hike. We peaked at 5700 feet and it was profoundly wonderful. I had never done a hike like that before and my friend proved to be a compassionate and knowledgeable coach. The sky was close, the mountains had their snow caps on and the sun on the pine needles looked like diamonds.

I am a mountain girl. Like those who long for the sea, I long to look at and visit mountains. I am restored and renewed in their presence. That day I felt the earth breathing and the rocks aware of my presence. There was a tall pine tree partially hollowed out by a fire that had occurred a few years before. The tree survived and had continued to grow. It reminded me of the redwoods of northern California. I walked quietly to the tree and gently touched the scorched bark and the exposed inner wood, tracing the lines of its rings. Then I stepped inside and closed my eyes, resting my forehead against the inside of a living tree! I prefer not...