Missing the Mountains

I miss the mountains (this is Shimshal in Pakistan...I think, I know it anyways)... the views, the looking up from a flat and seeing peaks, hell looking up from a flat and seeing ANYTHING! I miss the able to go, just go, and knowing, seeing where the going will take me. I miss the wind that is always colder than you remember even when remembering was only yesterday, or climbing out from goat herders hut from a lunch of cheese and glacierwater. I miss the feeling of using every muscel of the body, mind and soul, to accomplish what it is I had set out to do that day and only having myself to contend with....myself and Allah as there is always wind, rain, snow and canyons unforeseen.
I miss the people, being so strange and beautiful and yet exactly the same as me
I miss the way of living. How every moment is a picture, how learning to live again such a simple life brings universal and "all" contentment.