Forget about the money for a moment. Lose yourself in the wilderness, listen to the music of the softly blowing winds, feel the rain on your bare skin, let the mountains take the burden off your shoulders.

You don't need to climb a mountain to know that it's high.

We are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us.

There is a strange breeze that flows from the mountains. The breeze is tender yet harsh, sublime yet subtle, and it drifts from place to place in search of a nothingness. I am that breeze and I can't belong to one place or to anyone. I am the wanderer and wandering is my destiny.

Come with me to the mountains. Every stone there tells a story.

All material in nature,
the mountains and the streams and the air and we,
are made of Light which has been spent,
and this crumpled mass called material casts a shadow,
and the shadow belongs to Light.
- Louis Kahn