Intriguing. I couldn't quite pick up the second half of the lyrics until near the end, but caught the gist by then. It was really interesting to notice my visualization during this time.
I have a mountain practice which essentially has always consisted of a memory from my trip to Mount Cook National Park in New Zealand, where I lay on a curved boulder in the dried up river bed and watched the snow blowing off the peak of Mt. Cook, shimmering in the sunlight, as wispy clouds drifted by it. It remained constant, grounded and strong while these things drifted and swirled around it. This was one of a handful of pivotal moments for me in my life, and that memory, along with others from that same trip (and same day, in fact, such as a kea - a type of mountain parrot - deciding to swoop in and land on my rock as I was journaling and attempt to steal my fuzzy-topped pen right out of my hand).
This brief song put me back into a different mountain memory. Here, I was above the treeline of Mount Marathon, in Seward, Alaska. This too is a memory, as my then-fiance as stationed there, and whenever I got leave from my own duty station in California, I would go up to visit him. (We ultimately ended up living in Alaska for a while and visited this mountain frequently - would love to move back!)
This memory again involved me sitting on a rock, but it was in a small alpine meadow overlooking the harbor. Turned one way, one could watch the boats coming and going. Turned the other, it was the meadow, with the steady activity - yet calm and purposeful - of the insects and animals going about their business as the warm sun shine down and the cool, almost chilly breeze played with my hair.
I had not thought of Mt. Marathon before in my mountain practices, always before considering the drifting clouds and snow of Mt. Cook - which I observed from a distance. Here though, I was actually ON the mountain, temporarily PART of the mountain, seeing the butterflies flit brightly from flower to flower, while not far behind me in the trail below, mist faintly swirled in the same breeze rearranging my hairdo. π
I see now how both memories can be effective visualizations in my mountain practices, and the slightly different results gleaned from each one. Thank you for sharing this lovely song. I am bookmarking and downloading it to remind me that there is more than one way - and more than one mountain - to journey. I see the starlight within you. π€²π»β€οΈπ€²π»
