I craned my neck and slowly turned to see the towering snowcapped mountains in nearly every direction. Rocky fields were sprinkled with patches of emerald grass and the brilliant pinks and yellows of alpine wildflowers. I came upon a shimmering mountain lake and looked upon the towering fir trees that would invariably lead my eyes to the bright blue sky. It somehow seemed bigger than anything I’d seen before. I attempted to take it all in—to save it for future moments of reflection when I needed to feel a sense of awe.

As I did, I noticed the constant chatter of the rocky creeks surrounding me, a primal sound of reassurance that all was well. The sound had been there all along as if waiting patiently for me to notice. I felt the breeze come down from the mountains to cool my sun-warmed skin as my legs carried me forward, the muscles delighting in the joy of their effort.

I saw it all. I heard it all. I felt it all, and it was too much beauty for my intellect to take. My mind collapsed into a sea of euphoria, and there I stood, grateful for this moment of existence.

Lost Man is everything all at once.