i climbed tecate mountain the day the eagle snatched by father's eye.
i wrote that once back when words flowed more freely. not the struggle they are now,
like crossing the great mountains.
i gathered rose quartz at the base of cuchima.
hard to relate to mountains, being so far away from them now. there's a different kind
of mountain here...made of steel and glass; severe.
ain't no mountain high enough to keep me from you.
the catskill mountains as a little kid. mostly i remember being afraid to ride the cable cars.