I've tried over a thousand times (at least every other time Kory and I leave the house) to explain my love for our beautiful Utah mountains and every time I end up frustrated - because there are just no words. I told Kory I wish I could learn every language there is just because I'm sure there is a word out there, somewhere, for what I'm feeling when I see them.  The other day, I was particularly bothered at my inability to find the right words so I prayed that I would be able to figure it out. A few days later, when I was driving with Jeremiah and telling him about how I love the mountains I had this thought:

"I know the mountains, and I like to think they know me back."

It sounds bizarre and it is far from a complete thought but that single line is the closest I've come. I went on to think about how I often think about the mountains with a familial fondness. And about how I feel so whole and at home among them. I tell Kory often that wherever we go in life, we need to live by the mountains because I'd be so sad without them. But I also get worried that if we moved, the other mountains wouldn't be good enough. Because I've so come to know the ones that I live by - how their color changes throughout the day or the year, how they reflect purple when the sun sets, how their ridges look next to the skyline or through snow clouds. I know these mountains. And knowledge fosters love.

I probably sound overly sentimental but man, I just love these mountains.