I was born in a coastal valley, with a patchwork of greens on the valley floor surrounded by gentle golden hills broken up by occasional clumps of small oaks. I still feel most at home in that landscape - it just feels like the world was meant to be that way, to me. But after less than ten years, my family moved to a high sierra valley, at the top of a winding river and that has worked its way into my psyche as well. The one constant is mountains - I feel somehow lost and stranded if the horizon is too far away. Even now I live in a city most known for its steep hills.

God has spoken to me most clearly in mountains. But I tend to forget that, to minimize the effect of mountains on my mind and soul, not to mention my calves and thighs. I will have to try to remember that when I feel alone and stranded, mountains are a form of solace - even the Earth cradles me, holds me in God’s bosom.