Kananaskis Valley – That's the Life for Me

This
is the smell of wild grown grass in mountain sunlight
This
is the smell of cold water splashing onto dark rocks
This
is the smell of a million pine trees, a sea of green, land locked by mountains.

This
is the sound of raindrops hitting pine needles in such great amounts
that it is no sound at all.
This
is the tinkling of wind through tiny, quivering leaves,
the hollow roar of wind pressed between rock
This
is the singing of birds, living and flying deep in the trees. Singing their praises.
This
is the sound of nothing at all.

This
is where I lay my head to rest, a tiny room shared with an Australian named Suzanna
Which may be upgraded to a log cabin, if Parks gives me a job as an Interpreter
This
is Mount Kidd saying good morning, and good night, and good afternoon.
These
are the hidden valleys accessed only by climbs straight up, overflowing with flowers and streams clear as air.
This
is the paradise of endless mountain trails
where we are nothing more than creatures
and nothing less than the beauty around us, the beauty of this wild land
This
is the peace of deep conversation with shallow rivers.
The whisper and rustle as trees join in.
This
is the walkie-talkie party line shared by firefighters, loggers and park rangers alike
Because here, it's hard to forget that we're all in it together.
This
is an endless supply of Sunday nights in the village and Monday mornings in the trees
The knowledge that Hollywood's got glitter, but the discovery
is that these details make life better than whatever's on TV

This is Kananaskis Valley,
And it's the life for me!

By Kathryn Hogan