When the greatest and grandest changes within occur, there's no bell that is rung and no sudden parting of the clouds. Sometimes we must howl out in the wild, a primal call of connection that is cast to the wind. Perhaps we'll get a response, perhaps we won't, but we must never stop singing.

The collision between who we are and who want to be is a constant unending journey. We write poetry with each footfall on these hikes by daylight and confide with co-conspirators in the dead of night. Throughout it all, we wonder if the backpack on our shoulders or our burdens weigh heavier on us.

Still, despite the best efforts of those in humanity who would bring us down, we choose to soar. We want to take flight, to seek out a better and brighter tomorrow and those with dark hearts will never win the day. Though this place we have struggled to reach is a long way from paradise, we thrive.

We dreamed of worlds like this, we knew they existed in our world, but we never reach them without toil and turmoil. It is simply what has to be done. This wondrous waking dream comes with the cost of an aching body to fill our soul. We drink deep in the beauty, reveling in the joy of existence.

I remember the old soul who waited for me at the end of this hike and guided me towards my next path. How fortunate was I to wander this the day after you made your choice. How grateful I should be that my eyes remain on the beautiful mountains than the valleys within. We wander, some of us forever.

No matter how far we run and how fast we flee, we are still who we are and what we are. We may howl with the joy of existence but the valleys and peaks we reach exist within ourselves as well. This is not meaningless exertion, much as the search for the soul is never a fruitless endeavour.

The whispers we hear in these sacred spaces aren't always the wind but they speak a language both foreign and familiar. It stirs and swirls around us, touching deep within. We wander home as changed souls, remembering something ancient that once existed within and around us.

Somehow we find small pieces of salvation scratched into the earth like a message. The puzzle pieces never quite fit together but the beauty of it all leaves me at a loss for words.

Sometimes, it is only in the backcountry with our body broken that we find tangible truth to grasp onto.