Timpanogos, wonder mountain
The desire to climb is an instinct of humanity. The wise Father placed his child in the shadows of the valley. Then he gilded the mountain-tops and hung rich brocades of delicately colored clouds about them. He carved strange shapes in vari-colored stone upon their crests, left intricate paths and trails through tangles of luxuriant ferns, dainty columbines, over velvety mosses beside milky waterfalls; he strewed the hill-side with pretty pebbles, and caused strange birds to sing from branches of lofty trees. At last, with the grinding action of a glacier he hollowed out a tiny basin which immediately filled with liquid ice-cicles—a crystal jewel flashing back the sunlight and the sky, set in a diadem of royalty.
Then He spread below, far down, rich fields and plains, tiny roadways, thread-like ribbons of steel and, farther off, lakes and hills and peaks and distances. These he draped in mists of blue, and drab and lavender. Farther back, He hung elusive curtains of mull and mauve chiffons at the gates of the ever mysterious horizons. At night He caused the moon to paint the summit with silver sheens and
phosphorescent pigments. He blotted out the crags and scars and cliffs that distant heights crowned with close-set stars might be silhouetted against the tender sky.
To make His work of love complete he distilled the "encasing" air. From it he washed, the smoke and dirt and dust of lower altitudes. He had the winds freight it from afar: from western seas, from snow-covered latitudes, from sun-sterilized deserts over leafy
filters, up through fragrant vapors; He caused them to pour it through the resinous needles of the pines and balsams and spruces; to whip it into foaming water-falls and to polish and purify it on the projecting points of rugged cliffs. He shot it through with delicate perfumesand fragrances and poured it out in luxuriant extravagance upon the summits.
"When all was finished, purple Dawn, golden Sunrise, crimson Evening, and translucent Night in never ending succession played upon the peaks until the child far below in deepest shadows lifted up his eyes to the mountain tops. He saw their beauty; he heard their call in the voice of the wind; he caught whiffs of their fragrances upon the breeze. He raised his arms to the listening summits and cried, "Draw me up to your celestial heights, you silent watchers of the plains!"