Saturday Morning, 5 AM, Sundance Mountain Resort
River Run, 5A
The sound of the stream rushing by the cabin has played with my ears for hours. Now I can look at it, too, matching the dull roar of rushing water to the images of rivulets bounding down the hill.
It is spell-binding.
It is no wonder that mountains are considered sacred ground, and that in nature God communes with man. Adam the The Garden. Moses and The Mount. Joseph and The Grove. Jesus Christ and another Garden. It is in nature that Man meets his Creator (even atheists and often refer to the earth as Gaia, Goddess of Nature).
Here at Sundance we are nestled beautifully into the side of the mountain, trees mingled with cabins, streams criss-crossed with paths and bridges, architecture and artistry in equal measure. We come here to "get away," but what we are really doing is "getting back"--back to our roots, to the dust from whence we came.
The world is raging. The COVID plague is destroying layers of institutional habits--some of which are centuries old. This little stream scoffs at mere centuries, having been here for millennia. It continues happily down the hill, chuckling at the humans that it encounters.
"God is here," it gurgles. "Sit still, and listen to His voice."
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