For what are mountains waiting?
All night they are expectant : heavy hoods
of hills rounding against the stars seem opening
about invisible eyes,
that watch within the darkness under brows
of darker precipice…
At night we feel the mountains are hearkening,
and all but hearing.
—From April and Rain by Geoffrey Winthrop Young
(I posted this on Twitter at first, but as soon as I did so I felt a strong desire to take it down. Young’s immortal words deserve better, and every time I post one of my own images on Twitter I regret it a bit afterwards. I leave this message here for your contemplation.)