Ghost Mountains

The Atlas Mountains lie to the south of Marrakesh, about an hour's drive from where I live. They rise nearly 14,000 feet above sea level, and are utterly gorgeous.

But I didn't get to see them from Marrakesh until this week.

See, typically the summer haze and clouds completely shroud the mountains during hot weather here. So when I first arrived, I was a little disappointed to learn that although the mountains were there, they were impossible to see unless you drove out in them. It was honestly a bit frustrating, knowing that the peaks I was so excited to see were likely going to be hidden for a few more months.

I hadn't counted on the change in weather, though. First there came the relief of cooler temperatures after the days that reached 110 degrees Fahrenheit. Gradually, through the summer haze, I started to see a line stretching across the southern horizon.

The ghost mountains.

Seeming barely more substantial than the clouds that laced through their peaks, the Atlas Mountains nevertheless whispered their presence to all in the city below.

Draw the metaphors that you wish. If you know my love of symbolism, then you know I certainly have done so. But even as I have made lessons for myself from these ghost mountains, I have been pulled and enchanted by the reality before me. These mountains reach higher any lofty ideal I can symbolize with them. And sometimes, a ghost mountain is just that: an impressive feature on this earth, one that calls to mind my smallness. Sometimes, the lesson can end there.

And that was my mindset until this past Wednesday night. Arriving on the rooftop, I found myself confronted by the clearest view of the mountains I've had to this date. I could see the Low, Middle, and High Atlas Ranges. I could see some of the mountains' features. Warmed by the rosy sunset light, they seemed kinder than I know mountains to be. They were, in a word, beautiful.

The picture, as always, doesn't do the real scene justice.

The ghost mountains were replaced Wednesday night by the real thing, rewarding my patience when I least expected it. (The real thing, by the way, is worth waiting for.) The heat has come back and the ghost mountains are haunting us again, but I know that their shroud will soon disappear, and I will again see the character and features of these elusive peaks.

As I said, draw the conclusions and lessons that you will.