Ocean Vs Mountain

I have been pondering this since coming to the North.

When I was young I lived on both coasts, my father was in the Navy. Mostly though, I have lived within a half day drive of the Atlantic all of my life. After High School I ran away to central Canada; Ontario and Quebec.. but I missed it. I still remember each and every drive back east when I would see the coast and smell the air - it was truly like coming home and it was magical.

But here is the thing...

I feel that way now in the Mountains. I feel this overwhelming sense of beauty, of awe, of wonder... it is hard to explain unless you have been to the Yukon - where all of the tallest mountains in Canada are, but I cannot turn around without running into some different mountain.

Here is a scene I plan on painting, the mountains as seen from Emerald Lake.

Perhaps more importantly though, here is the view from my hotel where I go to sleep every night and wake up every morning.

So here is what I figure... I think the feeling that signifies home, magic, goodness etc. is actually the feeling of Awe. Whether you stand in front of the pounding waves or at the base of a glacial mountain you are looking at something there is no way you can conquer. Something larger and more powerful than your self.

It puts a lot in perspective. Buildings change, people die, landscapes evolve.... but never in my lifetime will I notice a difference in the height of these mountains or the breadth of the ocean. In fact, those folks who built the Alaskan Highway in the 1940's, those sourdoughs who packed 2,000 pounds over the Dawson Pass in search of gold at the turn of the 19th Century, even those folks that walked across Beringia at the end of the Ice Age from Asia - all of them were looking at the same mountains.

And so I remain in awe of these vistas that transport me through time and space into a sense of being not only one with the universe, but of being a small part in the unfolding of the human story.

How humbling is that?