When I walk the paths up the escarpment, the rock is right beside me. I can see the layered structure of the stone. These days, I can hear the water trickling through the rock. In summer, I am hemmed in by a wall of rock on one side and forest on the other. As the leaves fall, I will be able to see farther.
There are open places though, places where the trees have been cleared, places where the rock is too sheer for any large plant to take root. There are vistas.
Along my road, the walls of Cedar Hill lookout and Skinner Bluffs give safe places for people to stand and look north at the islands and Cape Croker. From the Kemble Women’s Institute lookout, the vista includes the outer part of Owen Sound bay, the point of Meaford, the open waters of Georgian Bay and on a clear day, a hazy view of Christian Island.
High places give us perspective. I wonder what your favourite is?
This might well work better in person, but let’s give it a try. I invite you to think of your favourite lookout, your favourite hilltop, your favourite mountain, a place where you can see a long way. It might be a spot you visit only occasionally. It might be your own porch if you live where there is a view.
Take a moment to remember what it feels like. Remember the wind, blowing your hair, your clothes. What does the air smell like?
Look far, far away. What can you see on the farthest horizon?
Imagine turning in that spot. What does the horizon look like behind you, at the side? Perhaps it is a mountain top where you can see in all directions. Perhaps the land closes in behind you.
Choose one direction where you can see the farthest. Remember the horizon, is it open like the sea? Are there details you can make out? Does it feel incredibly far away or near enough to reach? What new perspective does this vision give you?
Look down at the middle distance, what holds your attention there? Look for something beautiful … is there something you would like to touch? Take a moment to trace the path from the thing you would like to touch back to the place you are standing. Does it feel like an impossible journey or almost within reach?
I invite you back from that trip to the mountain or look out to think about what these lookout experiences tell us about vision and hope. Our world right now feels like it is deep in a shadowed valley. There is no big vision. There is no perspective that shows us the path out of the war in Ukraine. Inflation and the housing crisis seem impossible. A few people can find a place that gives them perspectives, that provides them with ideas for the provision of affordable housing, but most of us have not been to that mountain top.
Some have the luxury of living with a view. I have hiked in the Rockies and in the Appalachians where getting to the mountain top is hard work. Perhaps you have taken a long drive up narrow rough roads to get to a place where you can see for miles. Getting to a high place can be an effort.
When I think of mountain tops, I think of the visions of the Hebrew prophet Isaiah who saw images of peace and wholeness taking place on the mountain of the Lord. We need that kind of vision today.
But I also think of the ringing words that concluded Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech, am reminded of the work. Let me end with his words:
“And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.
“But not only that: Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
"From every mountainside, let freedom ring.”
Cathy Hird lives on the traditional territory of the Saugeen Ojibway Nation.
