My Pictures of You

Go to Yosemite. Prepare for magic.

It is in the Mariposa Groves, five hundred majestic giants standing tall. I call them the Ancients, and marvel at how their tops appear to touch the clouds. The tallest living things on the planet. If there had not been fences around the trees, I surely would have wrapped my arms around their massive trunks and thanked them for being so stunning and strong.

The enchantment lies on the winding road to Tunnel View. The sunshine streaming through the Ponderosa pines, creating shafts of soft light projecting onto the pavement, lending to an ethereal feeling. Sunbeams. The Japanese call it Komorebi. As we drove, the song "Pictures of You" by the Cure came on, and I instantly experienced all over goosebumps. I turned to my then partner, and said, "I think my parents are with us." I began to cry, and he just nodded and said, "Hi mom, hi dad. Hope you enjoy the ride."

The Tunnel leads to a busy pull off that provides the best view of Half Dome and Bridal Veil Falls. It is impossible to take a deep breath here, not from lack of lung capacity, but from wonderment. The excitement from the other admirers is palpable. We are all interacting with one another. The scene in front of us has made us instant friends, and we exchange pleasantries and enthusiasm. There are artists there, with easels, canvases, and paint. We crowd around to witness the painters, creating in plein air.

I touch my (former) partner's arm, and he pulls me into an embrace, and I say, "Can we just stay here forever?"

I am bewitched.