Growing up in the Midwest, I never realized how much mountains can change. Every morning, it feels like I am seeing the mountains for the first time. Albright, Static, Buck, Veiled, Wister, the Wall, South Teton, Nez Pierce, Middle Teton, Grand Teton, Mt. Owen, Teewinot, St. John, and Mt. Moran… the order stays the same, but the mountains themselves are in a constant state of metamorphosis.
On some days, I will walk to the dining lodge and the mountains will feel like they are miles and miles away. Then, when I leave the dining lodge a mere twenty minutes later, the entire range has shifted and I feel like I can reach out and brush the snow off of the peaks.
Some will say that it is the lighting, the clouds, the atmosphere, or my own brain playing tricks on me. I prefer to imagine that it is not an illusion or a figment of my imagination.
I have learned a lot while living in the mountains, and one lesson that the Tetons have taught me is that the mountains never stay put.
The mountains are always moving.