Beach or mountains? Both have merit. The soothing waters of the ocean lapping at the sandy shore, a salt tanged breeze gently blowing. I always feel refreshed, and cleansed, after a trip to the beach.

However, the mountains hold a special place in my heart. I chalk it up to growing up in the deserts of West Texas. The nearest ‘mountains’ were the mesas that could be seen in the distance, or the foothills of the Rockies, in Ft. Davis, which was, and still is, a favorite destination. I also developed a love for the mountainous areas of the Big Bend region. It’s fascinating to watch the change in flora and fauna, as you wind your way up. I also enjoy how the weather changes, as you climb. Years ago, my family and I were on a camping trip, in the Big Bend, in late April. A cold front hit the area, during the night, and the next morning we decided to book a room at the Chisos Mountain Lodge. At the time cell phones were fairly new, and the powerful models were mounted in a bag. My husband pulled over to call the lodge, with the vehicle facing Boquillas Canyon. As we set there, a wall of front clouds spilled over the face of the canyon, like a waterfall. It was a beautiful, surreal, sight. We made it up to the lodge, before the mountain road was closed, due to ice, and settled into our room. The next morning we woke to a winter wonderland. Everything was covered with snow. The kids enjoyed it, and we explored the trails around the Lodge. By that afternoon we were camping at the Cottenwood Campground, where the temp was 75 degrees.

The mountains awe me with strength, majesty, and mystery. No matter how much the wind, weather, and time whelm them, they are slow to give ground. And there’s no better view, than being above where the eagle flies😊.