mountains - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
If the earth had a pulse it rose through the mountains, creating their bold silhouette. To my eye, their peaks are the green line of a doctor's graph. I saw those rocks at dawn, those slopes that give home to so much life, a foundation for trees and shrubs, grass and ferns. With blue above and below, in the sky and lake, ever lightening as the sun rose, I knew it would be a good day... I just knew.
I couldn’t care less of the discord which was presently occurring in society. The mountains were all that conversed to me now. I grew tired of certain people’s power over me, I felt bound to the rules and regulations of this world. So I sought solitude here in the mountains, where the lands were of greater degree than mankind.
The tree stood ghost-like, the silent observer of the snowy mountains, the river and the clouds. The only thing bigger than range of granite peaks was the midnight sky, dotted with silver and as vast as any eye could wander. Below stood a girl, made all the more tiny, her red dress flimsy in the wind.
They stood in awe as the great mountain loomed before them, cold grey crevices holding the blood of many battles. While the lower passes wore a cloak of greenery, the peaks were crowned with a headdress of ice. Without a word passing between them, their hearts knew it to be a sacred place and stilled their minds.
The mountains were covered with a rug of trees, green, yellow, scarlet and orange, but their bare tops were scarfed and beribboned with snow. From carved rocky outcrops, waterfalls drifted like skeins of white lawn, and in the fields we could see the amber glint of rivers and the occasional mirror-like flash of a mountain lake...
Nobody could have guessed they'd come so far. At sundown they had fled in her father's hoover pod, Travis had used a rigger to hijack the biometric scanner. Then without lights they had piloted with only the green night vision and echo-locator for guidance. The sun was already high in the sky when they awoke and the surrounding terrain was brought into sudden and sharp focus. They were in a valley ringed by snow capped mountains. The lake the pod rested against was of the bluest water, deep and cold. In places the layer of deciduous forest, resplendent in golden hues, came right to the water's edge, indeed, some trees had even fallen in. Above that were the greens of the pines that declared a frigid boreal layer. And from that arose the grey of millions of tonnes of granite, only softened by the pristine snow; at first it just lay in the jagged crevices like the lines of our esteemed emperor's face, higher up not a hint of grey could peek through, it was simply brilliant white.
The mountains lay in a great line like the spine of the land. It was as if long ago they were a great beast, only to lie down one day and never get up. Perhaps the beast fell into an enchanted sleep, perhaps its soul was still in there. The range was high to the west and low to the east, curling at the end like a tail. They are the reason our land this side is so lush and the other side is scorching desert. To cross them the clouds must go high and meet the colder air up there, then they dump their rain on us, every drop.
He gave a last look at the town and its white-fanged mountains, and descended through the garden, round the way of the kitchen garden and garage and stables and pecking chickens, back to the house again.
But it was augmented and rendered sublime by the mighty Alps, whose white and shining pyramids and domes towered above all, as belonging to another earth, the habitations of another race of beings.
The mountains soared upward as if determined to kiss the heavens. Just looking at them it was easy to see why the ancient Greeks thought of the Gods on Mount Olympus, ruling from their home in the clouds. Each of them was white-peaked, but nothing like the neat line around a chocolate waffle cone. The snow reached down from the cap in craggy white fingers, no doubt up close there were mighty cracks in the rock deep packed with ice. Ian smiled to himself. One day he'd climb them, one day he'd look down on these tall pines like they were matchsticks. Then he'd see what God saw from heaven, he'd like that.
The mountains clustered together like they were cold, and under all that snow I don't doubt they were. I imagined them to shiver under their white coats, the real cause of the avalanches perhaps. Perhaps in that rock they think in the way timeless creatures must, with no regard for time, no concept of what it must be to hurry, be anxious or sad. I'd like to think that deep in the tonnes of granite is a spirit of the earth, slumbering since the time of the dinosaurs or before. At this point I can't tell which of them the road will take me to, it disappears in the forest only fifty meters or so ahead. I only hope that it passes though a valley between two of them rather than having to scale a peak.
The mountains soared up like they wished to challenge the sky itself, they dominated the horizon in every which way we looked except back. But a retreat wasn't an option, our homeland was already colonized, our homes either burnt or taken. The land at our feet was becoming more rocky with every step, the incline getting more burdensome ever so slowly. Sometimes a child would stumble on the loose ground, but carrying them wasn't much of an option. Every adult was laden with the supplies we grabbed on the way out. Our scouts gave us a full half-days notice that the enemy approached, time enough for the gathering of provisions. Some stayed to fight, foolish. We were out numbered and outgunned, what point is there in getting slaughtered? This way we live another day, whatever that brings.
Little Saralina would describe the mountains as a heard of great grey dinosaurs that had lain down in the noon sun on some sunny prehistoric afternoon for a nap and never woken up. To her young eyes the mountain range were giant beasts, giant beasts that might one day stir and walk the earth with ground shaking strides.
All around the grey rock broke the blue skyline in craggy peaks. Even in a photograph you could tell it was summer, for this range was only naked of its snow June through early September. The rest of the year they were as white-peaked as any storybook mountains. In any other year, at any other time I would have stood here in awe, admiring the view, revelling in this land God gave us. But now all I see is despair ahead. I can't just sit here and paint them, I have to cross them before the snow comes. After that I can't come back until it's gone again, who knows where I'll stay, how I'll live or even if I'll get back in time. It could be pointless, and if it is I'll never see her again. But if I don't go she'll know I never tried, that I choose to cherish her end rather than fight for the future she deserves.
For a while the country was much as it had been; then, climbing all the time, we crossed the top of a Col, the road winding back and forth on itself, and then it was really Spain. There were long brown mountains and a few pines and far-off forests of beech-trees on some of the mountainsides. The road went along the summit of the Col and then dropped down...We came down out of the mountains and through an oak forest, and there were white cattle grazing in the forest. Down below there were grassy plains and clear streams.,,
The dove-white mountains soared into the air, trapping the glistening sun behind them. As you walked closer it looked like a picture that you would find in a book; a snow-glazed alpine scene. The one word I would use is beautiful.
With glistening white caps, like a perfect storybook picture, the mountain range lay to the north. Like slumbering giants beneath thick blankets of white they lay in dreamless sleep as the eons ticked by like the second hand of a clock.
It was the perfect time of day, Terry mused, for a view such as this. The mountains rose up before them in the west, haloed in the aureate light of the setting sun. The flat land surrounding them meant all could be seen for miles around, the rising moon casting a wash of cool, pale blue over everything. Oranges and purples filled the air, the clouds framed with silver and gold from the sun and moon who shared the sky for these short moments. Terry wondered why Adam had brought her here, but he stared out at the mountain range ahead of them without showing any signs of speaking, so she followed his gaze and watched the sun sink out of view.
When barely more than a thin sliver of the sun could be seen, the snow atop the mountains began to glitter like diamonds, throwing entire spectrums of colour across the land and into the air. The water of the nearby river reflected that light back, though with more shades of blue, due to the moon's influence. She lost her breath, and - while utterly captivated by the scene in front of her eyes - she couldn't help but become painfully aware of the man stood beside her. His arms were behind his back, his figure straight yet somehow relaxed, and there was an expression of total peace on his face as he watched fire and ice meet as one.