Schloss Mittersill

We left Vienna this morning.  Vienna was nice for its lack of agenda, but not much other than that for me.  I had some notable meals with wonderful people and discovered a new artist to love (Gustav Klimpt).

What comes next I cannot fully describe.  Please know that I am not one for exaggeration.  I would not do that to you.  I have no reason to. I do not need to make this trip seem more incredible than it is.

Today I saw the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life.

We drove through the Austrian Alps and I was utterly speechless for the two hours we traveled.  I sat by the window listening to Ray Lamontagne, trying my hardest to absorb everything I was seeing.  I could not open my eyes wide enough.  I kept thinking of how thirsty I felt.  I saw such beauty that all I could do was thirst for more.  I didn’t have my camera on the bus so all I could do was look.  I do not need pictures to remember everything I saw today.  I don’t think I could ever forget it.

It had rained all day.  The mist and clouds sat in the valleys of jutting mountains, all covered in trees and rock faces.  They clung and lingered and hid the peaks. The mountains stand so tall.  Ones off in the distance had snowy caps and we all wondered if we would find ourselves in snow.  Streams and little waterfalls trinkled on the sides of each of our turning roads.  The villages were infrequent, small, scattered, and colorful.  We saw rivers and lakes, some of even a turquoise blue that you would find in the tropics.  They rush in the quietest way.  And the trees, oh the trees.  Most were green and full- birches and oaks and so many kinds I have yet to learn the names of.  The pines are so thin and tall with needles only at the very top.  In every grove and along every road there would be a few yellow and orange trees transformed by Fall.  Their leaves have not yet fallen but then seemed to float on the branches awaiting the next strong wind to send them dancing.  As we drove up and around the giants of land, we made it high enough to reach the snow.   It was thicker than a dust, just enough to flock trees but not covering all the ground.  The bus was full of joyous yells and laughter as snow smeared our windows.  Everyone chattered of snow days and sledding with the fondest memories.  But I missed the forest below instantly.  As we drove back down we saw the sun break out on the greenest valleys my eyes have ever known.

I now sit in the top room of a castle in the Alps.  I have a slanted wall with wood paneling and two small windows.  Erica and I have used our scarves to decorate our cozy space.  I can hear the rain steadily pattering on the roof and I am content.