From the Overlook at Caesars Head State Park, miles and miles of mountains, hills, and valleys stretch out below you. And in autumn that view is a magnificent display of orange, yellow, and red. It's pretty easy to feel blessed, even a bit staggered, by what unfolds before your eyes. You're past that point where the ears begin to pop. You're past that point where the roads have wound up around the mountainside.
You are there, on the mountaintop.
It is impossible to do justice to the view with one photograph. I have tried that. I cannot do it. This photo is a tiny portion of that view. On the far right you see a white house with a green roof. Imagine living in a home like that. Imagine every morning greeting you with the view you would see looking out those windows. Talk about feeling blessed.
One thing that makes this photo interesting is the fact that there is a thin mist or fog in the air below that house and off to the left, giving everything in the distance that soft misty look, while the white house and its green roof and the surrounding trees are clear and in focus.
From the Overlook, I gaze at those soft colors, those high peaks, those low points ... and my mind quickly drifts toward fantasy. What mysterious things happens in those canyons or on the sides of those mountains and hills, or at their peak? Not for me to know; only for me to wonder. Only for me to stand on that mountain-top rock, strain against the steel barrier, and drink in all there is to see and all there is to imagine from the top of Caesar's Head.