Was it worth the climb up here to stand on the roof of our world and gaze over the view? In the distance the waves glint as I follow the great plain west and watch the undulating baize of the land give way to the silvered pool. Or face north to snow capped peaks that rise through the green gap in the near hills that are clothed in oaks. Or maybe east to the high barren ridge that separates two glacial valleys so completely they as well may be separate countries. Or look south toward the weakened winter sun that tries in vain to shine through the mists that hang in the air and yet do not obscure the view over the brown moorland.
     How magical the world seems from on high...like a god in Olympus I can look down and feel a kindred longing that the view should never change. Then I leave and take the swiftest roads to home wherever that may be.