Aesthetic beauty, it’s not the thought of it that makes me cry. Because I do honestly, cry when I think of something beautiful. That trait of mine is what reminds me that this life we live is beautiful though, and I wouldn’t suppress it ever. The beauty I speak of is the feeling and the realization that overpowers you when you’re sitting in a quiet place. This quiet place can be anywhere, and it happens when you appreciate merely the existence. It’s so simple, but not everyone can do it. And that’s what contributes to my love for the mountains. It’s overwhelming really, the sense of wonder I get. The wave of goosebumps I feel traveling down my body as I breathe in the air and listen to the silence. Watching the breeze shake gently sway the trees… The shimmer of the water as the creek runs over the smooth rocks… It’s its own entity, something apart and far grander than any of us can really appreciate. To me that is love, that is god, and that is true peace.