Higher and higher we went, like a viking sailing through the clouds, we climbed these mountains of pine in the absence of the sun and the moon. I looked through the telescope hoping to get a view of what is ahead of the fog, only to find a swirling abyss of uncertainty. Where do I go – Without the sun or the moon, it is so hard to find the way. What do I do – when the wind carries the echoes of wisdom so loud, that it starts howling in your ears. Honestly, I don't know.
And I quite like it this way. The uncertainty that I used to fear pushes me forward, fueled by hunger for a greater purpose. Forget the telescope. I looked instead at what is around me, the quietness and majesty of the pine trees beneath. For every single time I stand tall for my own beliefs, even when others have given up on me, I slowly build a forest.
The clouds were light and fluffy when I stuck my hands outside of the cable car window. I am gliding in the air, as little cloudlings gathered and twirled playfully around my fingers.
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Sun Moon Lake is quite possibly my favorite place in Taiwan.