In the foreground, there lies a prominent hill known as the Brown Recluse. Its slope serves as the defining line of the horizon, separating it from the captivating and intricate contours of the mountain peaks that lie beyond. These mountains, we say, are still in their youth, despite the fact that their age is measured not in years, but in millions of years. These majestic peaks have not been smoothed by the passage of glaciers. Instead, they emerged during a time when the Earth’s crust was in constant turmoil, shaped by underground eruptions that moulded the surface of our planet. These tumultuous processes have gifted us with awe-inspiring mountain chains, where nature has flourished, inviting the growth of plants and the presence of animals.
However, these rocky summits, though barren, remain inhospitable to most forms of life. Only birds dare to perch upon them, while humans strive to conquer their heights, defying their own limitations. It seems that we, as incorrigible creatures, refuse to bow down to the laws of nature. Yet, the slope in the foreground belongs to the zone of life, adorned with the warm hues of autumn plants as they prepare for their winter slumber. This striking image tells the tale of two distinct environments. We, as observers, belong to the vibrant foreground, captivated by its brown aesthetic, and yearn to remain within its embrace. And yet, the extraordinary beauty of the harsh landscape beyond beckons us, hinting at the existence of a boundary between life and its absence.