There she was: the most beautiful angel to grace my serene landscape. She had ethereal eyes more crisp than the clearest stream. I remember how she stopped far off from me, dressed in her white winter parka, the straps of her backpack hidden on her shoulders. Hanging pots and pans clanked as she walked, but became still and silent as she was stricken breathless at the sight of me.
      I stood taller than any man she had ever known. I was a force of nature. She sighed, still shaken by the scene. I was more stunned. I caved at the very sight of her. My surface fell apart, and shook the very earth. She trembled in fear, but when the dust had cleared she realized it was natural and beautiful. Freezing water ran through my veins no more frozen than usual, but suddenly I felt the chill and my sentiment revealed itself in the form of goose bumps. I was embarrassed of my bumpy face, but she showed no shock.
      She slowly began towards me, and my heart became wild. The water in my veins warmed; winter slowly removed its blanket, uncovering the naked body of spring's first morn, waking every animal on my body. The beauty eased her way to my face; each move she made towards it was a passionate kiss.
      She took rest upon a toppled over tree next to a frozen fresh stream shining in the sun. She removed her backpack, and placed it lightly on the log. She laid her back upon the log, her head against her backpack, and took in the fresh air. The sun shone through the trees, deluded by the branches and newly sprouted buds. Suddenly, there was a dryness on her plump lips.
      "Mountain, I am thirsty." She called out, her eyes glistening in the sunset. Suddenly, she heard a reply, as the ice broke away from my veins. She stood up, and walked carefully to my vein, knelt down before it, closed her eyes, cupped her hands, and drank from my heart. When she had drunk her fill she gathered her things and began again on her climb.
      Soon thereafter she grew tired and removed her backpack again. She opened the pack this time, and removed a rolled camping comforter zipped up over a thin pillow. I could smell her angelic breath as it grazed subtly over my exterior, the frozen air making it visible to her and I. She unzipped the comforter and wrapped it around herself while shivering in the cold.
      "Mountain, I am cold." She called out, suggesting for me to warm her. I thought for a moment, and struck a near by tree with my idea. It frightened my angel at first as the tree fell safely ahead of her, and although the lightening had not been too intense, the base of the trunk was ablaze. My love, still shocked, gathered herself and moved toward my heart’s warmth, and embraced it.
      The next morn, my love awakened to the sound of birds, singing a song I had taught them to sing for her. A grin revealed her perfect teeth, and made cheeks bloom as a rose. She sat up on one hand while the other was used to hamper the sunlight. The morning was warm, and she felt comfortable; as though she could stay with me forever. She sat straight up, closed her eyes and yawned while reaching both hands toward the sky.
      After packing she began on her way. I embraced her with a blanket of soothing fog which danced between the trees. Her divine blonde hair hovered in the wind, imprisoning the morning dew within its strands. She looked upwards to the sky, blotted out by outreaching branches; the rays were tinged lime from budding life – life which I would gladly have given for her.
      That was all before, though: now I still stand tall, but I am overshadowed by her ghost, and cower below it. When she reached the summit those many years ago, the eternity I offered her was irresistible and she was brought to tears. My light breeze gently whispered vows, drying her soft cheeks. However, the promise of my love was overwhelming, and she fell to her knees. My summit wasn’t stable enough to support her and it collapsed.
      As she fell I tried to catch her. The branches which caught her only provided momentary relief from a steep decline in romance and lust. Each time a branch connected with her hand I could feel her briefly again, and what we once had seemed once again in my grasp, but was soon lost once more. Sometimes she held on long enough for me to catch her smiling. Other times, she’d let go on purpose as if to dare me to catch her. For what seemed like an eternity, I was in a constant state of panic until the last branch broke…
      I still remember her tears as she said good bye to me. And when she hit the rocks below, she returned to me every gift I had given her. The water, the warmth– but the water froze over and the fires burnt out, leaving spring covered with ice, and animals without permanent homes.