hills.

every new place inspires humility. a reminder that there is so much yet to discover. so much to yet to learn. so much yet to experience. traveling is broadening. in more ways than one. a kindred spirit still whispers in my ear.

and the mountains are different here. towering over this quaint little town they call a city. with trees for sweaters. and snow for hats. an inexcapable presence. continually reminding us that there are things greater than ourselves. stirring awe. perpetuating mystery.

and amidst the hilly avenues. coffee shops enable paths to cross with dear friends. book stores offer windows and mirrors of understanding. community art spaces showcase collective beauty. examples of native art persist as cultures blend. strangers glady accept a smashed granola bar from the depths of a canvas bag.

and at the zenith of one particular hill. people gather. in fancy suits. shaking hands. and talking about how to make our corner of the world. a little brighter. and perhaps some words are empty. perhaps some words float around aimlessly. but there are words. ideas. passions. that are heard. that may. just may. evolve into action. there's a certain energy. a certain hope. about the conversations on top of this hill.

and down below. are the people that are affected. by the words exchanged on that hill. and i belong down below. amidst everyday people. amidst grassroots. amidst struggle. but my eyes have been opened. my perspective widened. to the everyday people who work on that hill. who somehow have been chosen. to make decisions. that have potential. to help feed children who are hungry. to support people struggling with substance abuse. to expand educational opportunities. if only they will listen. to the voices raised. if only those voices will find courage to speak. with confidence they will be heard.

if only.