Fir fronds, dropped from their boughs in the hot spring sun, carpet a paved trail already wet with snowmelt. The smell breathing from the warm blacktop through the pine needles hits my senses like a slow start to a hearth fire: suddenly the fragrance has permeated my world, an earthy succor for low spirits. Much of the pavement is still fully blocked by stubborn piles of packed slush sprinkled with dirt and leaves, mauled by footprints. The untouched snow off to the sides crunches and molds into itself when i grab at a handful, bare fingers warmed in the eighty degrees of sunlight. As i walk my palms ease the old snow into a dense ball of ice, perfect for cooling my neck and chest during the uphill climb toward the ridge.

The ravens arrive squawking to each other mid-air, above and below the path: mountain criers bringing news from all around. What more eerie, wise creature could be so loud and also welcome? i listen closely. Perhaps i am eavesdropping, or perhaps their messages are for all to hear; feathered foot soldiers gossiping as i strain to understand. i ask questions of these ravens, and they cluck with curiosity, but offer me nothing. Like any henchmen, they will need bribes before they share information. i know better than to play this game with birds so sly. i walk on as they wing past, raven business remaining between them and their sky.

At least one river whines faintly up from the valley below. Rallied against rock and carried on the wind its cries grow louder. The melt of thaw makes gluttony of all waterways. They roar the loudest they will all year—creeks, rivers, streams and all their mighty cousins will fatten up into their banks and carelessly, aggressively reshape the land that holds them. Spring break is in full swing, and the current’s flow thus bolstered echoes throughout of torrential indulgence. The mountains proudly scatter this information around as if aware they will grow taller in the water’s rush. The sound reverberates around the valleys—a song these giants together have been singing ever since they were droplets on pebbles.

In these vast moments i know god is nearby. i can feel elysian music best when i can see the movements. i am lucky to have chosen a clear day for this adventure: i can see holy splendor in every direction, the only other signs of humanity so small as to be insignificant. To the north is the ocean. i can see the land beyond even that, with yet more mountains; a place we of this bordered land are currently not allowed to visit. It seems an impressive waste of energy and resources—too often life as well—to bother keeping people inside invisible land boundaries. The world is so vast, yet governments so petty. Why would anyone want to stop another person from seeing these beauties? If i could, i would take everyone to all of the places i’ve seen gods.

Today my pilgrimage is personal and though that wasn’t the original plan, it’s much better this way. Atop the ridge at last, i say my thanks as i settle down to take it all in. i can hear Chinese and a language i don’t recognize among all of the English and Spanish. Visiting a national park is a lot like walking into the most diverse block party of all time: a family event where everyone is just trying to have a nice day then go home. As i sit in the sun and take in the uncountable mountains under the glory of our pure blue sky, i can feel eyes on me. They wonder at my aloneness and investigate my tattoos, so many of which are exposed now under the brilliant sun. One especially small onlooker contemplates neither my tattoos nor lack of companionship—a chipmunk notices my snacks. i talk to the little rodent about how i will not be sharing, but it only creeps closer, right on to my backpack set next to me. i am quietly giggling at it now, whispering, and together we create a convenient moment for everyone to stare at me outright.

“Oh wow look at that!”

“You’ve made a friend!”

“Is that a chipmunk?”

“Oh he’s a brave little guy!”

Though they are meant to be heard, very few of the scattered statements are directed at me. Still, i look up from my new friend with some small pride, and announce casually to all in attendance that i am now a Disney princess and should be treated as such. Amid the chuckles, a raven heralds my coronation.