When my husband and I lived in Germany, we took a driving
vacation into Switzerland.  We spent some time in Zermatt, a
vacation village in the shadow of the Matterhorn.  No gas-powered
vehicles are allowed in town, so we left our car a few miles down
the road at Tasch.  Zermatt consists mainly of restaurants and
shops.  Like most visitors, we hit the highlands during the day,
and returned to civilization in the evening for a little fun.
During our two full days in Zermatt, we planned to save the
clearest day for the cog train ride to Gornergrat peak, far above
everything except the Matterhorn.  The consolation day was for a
hike up a canyon just North of Gornergrat, where visibility would
not be so important.

The cog train ride up to Gornergrat was slow and beautiful.  We
arrived at the top of the mountain which is called “Red Nose” for
good reason.  On that July day, I made an awesome snow angel.  I
counted 12 major peaks and 9 active glaciers below me.  My
husband, who was startled that I had packed coats and gloves for
us, was grateful for my insight.  The view of the Matterhorn was
unmatched.  I soon found that it’s very difficult to snap a photo
without any clouds around it, as the mountain visibly creates
clouds on the leeward side.

We were told that the train would make several trips up and down
during the day, and we were advised to try to walk part of the
way down.  We met another young American couple and agreed to
depart the train once we passed most of the snow.  We would walk
down until we either got to town, or got tired and could catch a
train for the remainder of the ride to the bottom.  We were the
only four getting off the train.  It was sunny and warm.  The
fields where we walked, far above everything, were green and full
of wild flowers.

We walked down the path and cut across open areas not worried
about getting lost because we could see everything – where we
were going and where we had been.  We often got lost in
conversation, sharing our traveling stories, our eyes in front of
us on the hillside and on the path.  Then one of us would raise
our eyes to look at another in the face, and once again see the
magnificent view.  That’s when it would happen.  “Oh God, the
mountain behind you is amazing!”  And the other would look up 
“Oh my gosh, look behind you.  It’s beautiful.”  This happened
several times, and it became quite distracting to our
conversation.  So much so, that we took a hiking break and put
down our packs.  We agreed that we had to film this “Sound of
Music Moment.”  The guys got the video cameras ready and we gals
ran over behind the rise of the hill in the direction of the
Matterhorn.  After given our cue, we came over the rise skipping,
arms out, singing “The hills are alive . . . “.  Due to lack of
memory regarding the song lyrics and our hysterical laughter, we
had four takes.

We hiked all the way down the mountain.  After all, it was
downhill.  Once in town, we decided that as tourists, we should
also try the cheese fondue at one of the eating places.  It
wasn't that good, but the company was.  What a great day!

Getting off the train to walk made our day in the mountains
memorable.  Sometimes it’s so easy to follow the crowd and stay
on the train, or cruise ship, or whatever.  It’s those times when
I get out and walk that I discover the true spirit of the place
I'm visiting.  This applies to life too.  I recently assisted at
a girls' camp, and learned a new song.  I've been singing it a
lot lately because it reminds me to linger a little, and to enjoy
where I am before it’s gone.  (I'll sing the melody to you if you
give me a phone call!)  

Mm, I want to linger    
Mm, a little longer
Mm, a little longer here with you . . .