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You look around. Surrounding the town, reaching from ground to sky, are great and wild mountains.

There are gray peaks hidden behind shifting clouds.

Every so often, the tip of a mountain peak will appear as the last wish of a cloud moves on.

Only to be covered, once again, as the next cloud takes its place.

It's easy to become in trance of the light as it moves across the face of these green and gray

mountains. As you watch, the sunlight hits the foliage just bright and the greens become brighter,

almost shiny with touches of gold. Then the greens go dark, almost blue as the shadow of the gray

clouds moves across them. Light and dark. Light and dark. You watch this cycle happen over

and over each time slightly different than the last.

In the distance, you can just barely make out the faint, gray line of a road,

sneaking its way up and down the ridges of the mountain.

You follow its twists and turns until you lose sight of its path about halfway up.

What's up there, you wonder? Where does that road go? Could it possibly go all the way to the top?

There's so much mystery in a path like that, so much to explore.

To your left, there's an older woman walking to her truck with a small bag of books.

She typifies what you'd expect someone living here would be like, kind but strong and capable.

She pauses when she sees you standing there, staring off into the distance.

...