Driving through Redding Hills
It was so beautiful, solid white. Clouds over the east cleared just enough for the cone of Mt. Lassen to ascend. There it is— I saw Lassen! she said. It looks like a cloud but it's not— it's Mt. Lassen— did you see it? Yes, I saw it. Through the trees as I drove and turned my head I saw it. And I saw you, Crystal Dawn at sixteen, exclaiming, excited, touched by that mountain I grew up with and carry in my heart. Has that mountain become yours too? Are you, my daughter, to be a carrier of the mountain too? Tomorrow perhaps the north clouds will part and Shasta will present itself. What will you say then?