Something I Love

by Mewsette

I love my mountain. I've lived three places in my long life, but I only loved my mountain.

My mountain is in the Ozarks. It isn't big or high or snowcapped, and when you see it from a distance you just see trees. The mountain is mostly woods, with some pastures and streams. My white house stood on top of it and looked out into deep woods. I sat on my screened porch and looked out at those woods, too. Our yard was always full of little woods creatures and birds to watch. Sometimes a cattle came into the yard! They are very big! But they're not scary. My mom would go shoo the cattle home to where he lived, down the road. And sometimes our chickens ran around in the yard, if there were not packs of dogs around. It was all very entertaining!

It was pretty, too. In the Spring we had Datura lilies climbing up the porch, and pink and white flowers on the trees, and in the Fall they turned all red and gold and some of them got apples. Then in winter, everything would be covered with snow, and all the little noises of the woods would be stilled. When the wind blew, you could hear it whisper and rustle. The wind whispered wonderful things to me all the time. I love wind, too. The sunshine there was especially warm and bright. The sky was especially blue. It was all very peaceful at the same time. I was getting older and liked it peaceful.

Sometimes things we love go away. My mountain didn't go away, though, I did. I wonder if the mountain misses me, like I miss it. I like to believe it does, because it loved me back. I still dream about my mountain at night. Sometimes I pace and prowl and go to look out the window, but it isn't there. Maybe someday it will be again, if I always, always love it best.