Love Land

Cold, crisp wind smacks your cheeks as you begin to make your way down, slowly turning and then sharply stopping to gaze past the glimmer. Thankfully your cheeks are about the only things showing beneath the layers and layers of down and thermal wear. Someone plops down on the snow packed path nearby and begins to fasten his board to his boots. A glance in his direction and then off to the right reveals the sprinkling of tiny evergreen trees and streams of white snow paths gliding down the mountain. The glance becomes a stare as you turn your head to the left where the giant hills jet up and down, seemingly for miles, as a white sparkle forms in your eye from all of that glittering snow. Straight ahead microscopic cars disappear into a tunnel beneath it all. But instead of feeling big, you feel tiny, insignificant, yet of value. You spin about to face the sun, dangling its rays over the jagged peaks above. The effect is white upon white with a bright light of brilliance beckoning clouds to bridge the gap between snow and sky. There are people around, but with eyes set on the crux of the tip of the snow topped peak, you can’t even see them, and the wailing wind deafens their noise. If a blizzard were to start it wouldn’t blind you, but would allow you to see, granting insight to how it’s all formed and you’d fathom its entirety. Twelve thousand feet above where, twelve hundred miles away, the sea meets the sand, you are surrounded by rocky mountains. Man named the slopes “Loveland” and it makes sense. Loved ones venture to the top uniting, often unbeknownst, with an expression of love, given from the heavens, and God gets the glory.