Hiker at Whistler

An unnaturally pointy rock reigns over the falling forests below. That peak is too many miles away, yet it mocks me for not being there. This view I'd say is satisfying, but for now I can't fully say. My parched throat, burning legs and freezer-burnt skin distracts me from such luxuries as satisfaction. Satisfaction is not a word that I utter lightly, so don't get me wrong when I say that. Really, I have never felt more whole and at peace than at his very moment. The wind has ceased for me for this instant, so that I might enjoy this peaceful moment to the fullest extent. There is no sound for me up here, except that which my own body makes. When true silence is attained, one must not let their mind wander to the constant ringing that occurs within all ears. It can be deafening to the point of causing a person to yelp in the hopes of relieving themselves of the deafening sound of silence.
The sweat on my face which moments ago was flowing incessantly, now slows as it freezes against my skin. When I open my lips to breathe, the homeostasis of my mouth is interrupted by the arctic air that surrounds me unobtrusively, and the unique taste of frozen air can be felt. I dare not sniff to take in the smells, for the fear of sharp frozen nostril pain, but if I breathe gently through my nose, a hint of ozone can be noted. In mere moments, my metabolic rate will slow and the cold will remind me that I do not belong here. I could sit here for hours but the ensuing violent shivering would more than motivate me to leave. So I will take a photograph and continue moving from this place. Perhaps I will find more and better viewpoints than this, and take pictures of them as well. When night falls, I will have planned to have returned to my car, and begin the winding drive back down to home. I will look over the pictures I took of that place and wish I was back there and enjoying it better, because in all its glorious beauty, it didn't quite satisfy. That is why I will go again tomorrow.