Standing within a world of higher altitudes, I breathe in the scent that lingers after a storm. Through a 360 view, the atmosphere is anything but leveled. Right ahead—a windy dirt path hides beneath a field of lush green grass. Tiny people plant within it as they smile for a picture with the highlands tipping over their heads. In this moment, I wonder what the world will look like from the bouldering peak pointing out of the clouds. 

Starting my journey uphill, the roots, dirt, and gravel of the trail resist against my every step. A base built strong that was made to be walked upon. To my right, the sunflowers breeze with the wind my body craves as tiny particles of sweat form upon my skin. In need of a breath, I stop and stare at what has become real: this view. I look back at what I thought I knew—buildings on every corner and windy roads. Now seen as a community of red Spanish top roofing and a wide body of green. Not even half way up to the destination and my perspective of Boulder, Colorado has changed. 

It rains from a distance underneath a pillow of clouds. My sister always told me to never hike during a storm, but right now that doesn’t matter. I long for new sights as I become taller than the world below me. There are single homes aligned on a twisting street up the mountain to my left. A hidden world I didn’t know existed, only seen from the look out point a mile up.

I’m now surrounded by a forest of uniform trees grown tall and a path that keeps on. Two people with mountain climbing gear walk past me. This is where I decide my journey will only go downhill from here. What a comforting thought it is that every new view taken in can be seen again. This time only, I stand here wondering what it will look like from up above.