Grandmas and Godmothers

     Everything in the natural world has something to teach. Take, for example, the Allegheny Mountains that surround Lightfall Hollow.

     The Alleghenies are part of the Appalachian Mountain Range that spans the eastern United States and Canada. Geological determinations as to their exact age vary, but all agree they were formed hundreds of millions of years ago. Although certainly old – well, at least by human standards – they are not even close to being the oldest mountains on Earth. That distinction goes to the Barberton Mountains of South Africa. Also known as the Makhonjwa Mountains, they are truly ancient at 3.5 billion years, formed just one billion years after our solar system began and in conjunction with life first arising on Earth in the single-celled microorganisms that are the building blocks of all living beings.

     In addition to the Makhonjwa Mountains, there are numerous other mountains around the world that are at least one billion or more years old. While some of the youngest mountains are still growing. In the United States, these include the Sierra Nevada, Adirondack, and Rocky Mountains. Elsewhere on the planet, mountains still growing include the Alps, Andes, and Himalayas.

     As for the Alleghenies, they quit growing quite some time ago. At their peak, they were as tall, steep, and savage as today’s Himalayas. But once the mountains stopped growing, the forces of erosion took control. For eons, ice, water, and wind have worn down the Alleghenies until what now remains are short, rounded, and gentle elevations that some see as no more than uninspiring hills.

     I would beg to differ. Because I find the Alleghenies fascinating. With their current images like squat, stoop-shouldered, wrinkled old grandmas and their dense forests veiled in shadows, there is something mystical about the Allegheny Mountains. As if they are the all-knowing keepers of ancestral wisdom. Within the dark shelter of their woods, hiding secrets we humans are not yet ready to learn.

     The Alleghenies are also friendly mountains. Mellowed with age and placid, their rolling highlands are open and accessible. Not only to a rich abundance of diverse flora and fauna, but to people too. Here in the Alleghenies, we don’t just live around our mountains on the flat ground at their base, we live in and on our mountains. Here, we get to know our mountains up close and personal. They become a part of us, and we become a part of them. Each essential for the completeness of the whole.

     Though I admit the Alleghenies are not the most breath-taking mountains in the world, I see them as enchanting givers of breath. They somehow magically comfort, heal, nurture, and inspirit. Fairy godmothers incognito.

     It is because of the Allegheny Mountains that I believe there is something to be said for being vulnerable and at the mercy of erosion. That there is goodness, beauty, and authenticity in becoming humbled, timeworn, and old. Such are the lessons my Alleghenian grandmas and godmothers have taught me.