mountains and caves

Driving in this morning gave me glimpses of sunbeams--stairways to heaven--through the clouds. I wish there was another common name/metaphor for them: they're gorgeous, but hard to describe.

The low-hanging clouds made the range lining up with Mount Nittany hazy. Again, gorgeous. I'm glad to have such a pleasant--or at least picturesque--commute.

I had the opportunity recently to visit Centre Hall twice. I used to go there much more often, when H. lived out there, but hadn't been back in awhile. Centre Hall has the distinction of being built right at the foot of one mountain range, and the rise is impressive, especially as a backdrop to such beautiful houses and churches. Given, there's the mix of unattractive houses as well, but much down there is quite pretty.

In one case, I was driving J. to the dealership to pick up his car. In the other, I was driving out with D. to see Penn Cave. Penn Cave was a weird one for me: I adore caves and cave tours, even if I don't particularly care for the kitsch that almost always accompanies them (although I remember now that the D. from high school wrote enthusiastically about such kitsch, as a total aside).

Penn Cave, though, is a totally water-based tour. You're in the boat the whole time, sometimes ducking to pass through what they call the Narrows, or other low-hanging configurations. You get on the boat after watching the huge trout chase food people throw in (those fish get violent!), go through the cave, which isn't entirely impressive, then out the other side, through a man-made entrance. You get to see bits of their wildlife park, including a pair of nesting swans. The boat makes a circle around the island they nest on, then you go back through the cave and see it all again at a bit faster of a pace and including some special-effect lighting. Overall, though I love caves, I wasn't entirely impressed. I appreciated the drive out there more, in some ways.

In some ways, perhaps, it's the touch-feel sense of caves that I love. The expanse of interior space versus the press of rock bearing down all around you. Being in the water, in a boat, made that feeling very distant for me. Or perhaps it's that I had company. The most recent tours I've had of caves were done on my own--and it may be that I prefer the relative solitude. Relative, given that there's usually many others with me on the tour, of course.

That's it. I just need my own cave to retreat to.