It is beautiful in the autumn when the colorful hardwoods are cloaked in mist. And it is a peaceful sight as I walk in the evenings with the sunset glowing behind the treetops.
Something about that ridge, standing on tip-toe, reaching for the clouds, makes me think of one of the songs of David that the people sang going up to Jerusalem for the Feast of Tabernacles: .
I look up to the mountains—
does my help come from there?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth