Electric Peak, one of the many summits to find

     Back from the West, I sit in the confines of my Midwestern home, longing for the wonder I left behind.  I'd like to be back there, to be back in the heights, to be back in the marvel of mountain peaks.  For over a week, I adventured, trekking through any number of meadows, gazing at many a lake, taking in the view from a lofty peak.  It's all very amazing.  And gratifying.  It's gratifying to know such things exist, it's amazing to understand that materiality can yield such astonishment and majesty.
     So little do we know, yet how much we do, riding the waves of the trails, catching the foam of the quotidian, cruising across the scope of our human imagination.  Our hearts leap, our minds are struck:  each day, we hope, we see more than we saw before.
     And that, it seems to be me, is what we should ultimately wish.  In a necessarily meaningful world, a world intentioned and occasioned by God, this is really all we ought to do, all, in fact, we can do:  we would never see more if nothingness had always been.