Wednesday, 4 April 2018

The mountains are calling, and I must go

Sometimes dreams descend upon you rather unexpectedly. Here I was set on trying to find part-time work as a teacher while investing myself in an undoubtedly unhealthy amount of hobbies and creative projects. Then a couple of days ago, more or less out of the blue, I got offered a job at a ski resort in one of the most beautiful places on Earth. What can I do but drop everything and travel way up North?

Keep my promises and let this opportunity pass on by, obviously. But seeing as my dearest ones all encouraged me to go and forgave the broken promises in advance: here I am. Chasing a dream through my mother's footsteps, that my heart had nearly given up on. A dream of snow, and mountains, and possibly even inner peace.

So here we go again with the adventures. I am on a journey towards the distance, but in a way I am really going home.

What's that stir, so blatant in our sallying hearts?
What's that urge, that lifted up our longing eyes?
What's that ring, echoing from the leaden skies?
What's that augur, resounding from the lyre's strings?

Love and adventure,

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