I miss my mountain. I know it's a half hour's drive away from my hometown. I know it's not always visible from every vista of Yreka. And yet, Mt. Shasta has always signaled home. Driving around those bends in the canyon where the mountain just peeks through after the long drive through the Northern California valley and hot hot Redding. Its towering facade from the actual city itself nestled at its base, the snow ever glowing in the moonlight. Over fields and football stadiums, Mt. Shasta is a symbol of home. I about fell out of my computer chair tonight when I saw it online in the most random of places. There were tears in my eyes.
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