A Tale of Tourism.

I've been getting better, and to celebrate, I decided to earlier today climb a huge rocky hill overlooking the Sutomore ocean coastline. I call it a hill because it seems like a dwarf mountain, and is covered in trees and red clay-like earth and thousands of plants and grasses sprouting from the most amazing places.

Armed with comfortable shoes, I treked up paths and rocks, noting everything around me like a five year old child. Not only were the rocks so different, the wildlife, the view, but the feel of the air and the atmosphere around me were also curious. The sea breeze was the most refreshing incentive by far.

I just regret not having a camera to take picture of the wonderful view. Maybe next time I visit the same area I'll photograph everything in sight. I did take a few rocks as a sample (Mrs. Veto will be overjoyed!), and they're residing in a huge tray of rocks like the ones I found on the coastline, feeling home safe and sound.

The strangest thing was probably seeing goats running around on the mountain, not bothered by people at all. In fact, some of them approached people with food and kindly blinked until offered some bread. While amusing, I set my sights back on the top of the hill, which was closer than ever!

Once I got to the top, I sat on a cut out of a cliff, calcium carbonate deposits older than I could ever imagine, and just stared out at the ocean for a while. The sea was the most rich azure blue, with different zones of colours, regions of gems each rarer than the other, that melded in perfect harmony and washed along the sand in a playful temperament. I have seen those waves act angry, lazy, calm, and optimistic, and I know that with every change of face from our friend the Moon, they like to change as well.

Whether it was the illness or the sheer natural beauty of the moment, I couldn't stop thinking in pictures, colours, childlike terms and poetry. I thought the forests in British Columbia were something to see, but the forests lining the area and ascending up the true mountains were lush and gorgeous, full of shade and seemingly unaffected by the heat of the day and the commotion of the crowds, a spectacle of so many environments in the same area.

A feeling of peace, of utter contentness with the world around me is the only way I could describe what I was seeing emotionally. Rows of houses stacked neatly atop each other, marine docks, sunbrellas dotting the coastline, stores and cars snaking through the trees and hills were what brought me back to the realization that no matter how wild something seemed, there was always some touch of civilization to claim it in the name of humanity, alter it, and corrupt it to call it our own. I left the mountain and went back home feeling somber and melancholic. I don't regret my visit one bit.