The light on the water is amazing. It shimmers, it glimmers, and in the distance it glitters like snow on a moonlit night. By the shore it is clear, so clear you can see down to the white rocks at the bottom and the not so little fish darting away from my feet as I wade back to our blanket on the grass. It is spectacular here. Not just pretty, not just beautiful. On all sides of this azure oasis rise mountains, their fur trees and craggy rocks rising stark against the bright blue sky. It is like the opposite of standing on the top of a mountain, looking down at the scenery below. Here, you stand at the bottom and look up. Up into this bowl of pure wonder. My soul quietens and I marvel at the forces which have shaped this place over the millenia. Forces beyond anything my tiny mind can fathom. Wind, rain, streams, rivers, earthquakes, nothing less than the movement of continents that jar and jam and together force the earth up into these staggering peaks. And the crystal clear water that gathers in this marvellous lake below – a blue the colour of which I have never seen in my not so short life and not so few travels.
I can feel my smalless here. I suddenly understand why so many people refer to mountains as ‘majestic’. There is a stillness, a solidity, a wisdom in this landscape which is completely different to the constant movement of waves which I am used to at the coast. This still water, gently mirroring the ragged mountain faces. Time slows here. Stretches. I want to stay and watch the seasons change. I want to stay and watch he leaves turn, to see the lake in the rain, to watch is slowly freeze over and snow coat the rocky mountain sides. I want to stay maybe forever.