Back to the Blue Mountains

When I was a little girl I used to look at the hills that face my house west of my neighborhood. They always seem smoky and blue in the mornings. Being a morning person, I used to wake up early on Saturdays (my favorite day of the week) and stare at what I called the blue mountains forever. I imagined climbing up and touching the sky! From my perspective and my reality, the mountains seemed like they were scraping the deep blue sky, and I was sure that I could just climb to the top and touch the sky ceiling and play with the clouds as though they were solid. My imagination was nurtured by one of the first songs that I remember, in which the lyrics said that the sky could be touched with the hands. Needless to say that I became very stubborn in my want to pursue touching the sky from the mountain top.

I continued to look at the blue mountains every Saturday morning, and was always amazed by their rare color and wondered what made them look like that. Later on, when I was a young adult, I decided to hike up the hills with some of my friends. The trip to the top was exhilarating, and once at the top we could see all kinds of things, from part of the valley of Lajas to some of the coast line of Guánica. We felt very happy and empowered being at the top as though we had climbed up the Everest. We planted a flag in evidence of our visit, which was blown away by a hurricane years later.

When I went back to my home town Puerto Rico I looked at the blue mountains once again. They were looking smoky and blue as ever, and I could not help but to stare at them just like when I was a little girl. There is no flag now to be a silent witness to the ascend to the top with my friends, and I might not take the hike to the top again. However, just like when I was a little girl, the mountains made me think that I could in fact touch the sky just like them, and this time I don’t have to climb them to do it.