This past summer, I discovered something. I discovered that I have a small obsession with one feature of mountain ranges that has been elusive to me – until a trip that I took two months ago.

The thing that took me by surprise were the layers that appeared before my eyes when my companion and I set up the slopes of Mt Shasta. When we left the tree line behind (or, rather, below) us and took our first unobstructed look at the mountain range surrounding Shasta, my surprise and joy could have been compared to that of a child finding Christmas presents under a Christmas tree.

I’ve been in the mountains more times than I can count. I’ve seen breathtaking sunrises and ranges of snowy peaks stretching seemingly forever in all directions, so far that I couldn’t even make them out at some point. However, I’ve never been rewarded with the hazy layers of mountains peacefully lined up, stretching across the horizon in the light of sun low in the sky.

The beauty of the layered world went beyond of what I could describe with words or pack in a photograph. There was and is not a thing that could do it justice. Simply said; I fell in love.

I could have spent hours and hours up there on Shasta slopes, watching the haze-covered mountains. And I did, indeed, give them probably more attention than to anything and anyone else on that hike. I think it might have gotten my companion a little jealous.

The time to go came a little too soon, but neither of us wanted to get stuck on on the rocky trail after dark, even though I did bring a headlamp just in case. We started slowly back down the slopes and soon, the mountain range started to hide once we made it back to the tree line, disappearing soon after in the dark of the upcoming night.