Sense of Place

I'll never forget one of my first serious forays into the mountains, a question that was asked, and whose answer has eluded me ever since.  Perhaps the questions that cannot be answered are the best, as this question has stood the test of time, and been a common thread through my life.  Sometimes answering questions with words can feel limiting, and at best I feel I have only alluded to the answer.  The question came after a big storm when we emerged from our tents to spectacular lighting, spindrift and winds, creating a light dance in the peaks around us;  "How do you explain this to the folks back home?"  was put forth.  Words fall short, maybe only providing a signpost pointing to what we experienced.

It is for this reason that I gravitated towards photography as a way to show the folks back home what we had seen.  Photography is nothing less than "Drawing with light."  Light is electromagnetic radiation of a wavelength that is visible to the human eye.  In physics, the term light often refers to electromagnetic radiation of any wavelength, whether visible or not.  Energy can become mass, and vice versa (remember E = mc²).  In other words we can become light and light can become us.  Is "Drawing with light" the way to show the folks back home what we see on our journeys?  Can we relate to light, better than we can relate to thoughts?  It's as close as I can get!  Another signpost towards the experience.

Or, maybe those who have never been will never know, and that is it.
Rene' Daumal, a 20th century French para-surrealist, said it well in The Art of Climbing Mountains, from Mount Analogue

'...What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. 
One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. 
There is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. 
When one can no longer see, one can at least still know...' 

- Rene' Daumal

Adam