Fjordlands

And now for some purple prose:

Deep teal waters gently rock into the vertical shores of richly forested crags and crests that soar ever higher toward the sky. A glacier peeks out from a notch in the rocks. It glistens in the sun. The water is smooth; calm; a mirror. Tour boats dot the expanse, and I suspect that folks aboard them are having the very reaction I am, but Oh, My God! doesn't even come close. And just when I think I can't see anything more breathtaking, a sharp cliff pokes its nose into the air from out of a deep valley. Jutting, reaching, climbing, majestic, spectacular, mind-boggling, yet these giants are silent, still, content. Waterfalls, like strands of hair, tumble from their source high in the peaks. A small cloud clings close to the shaded side of the rock...a child sheltering from a chill. The sun slices into the crease and the cloud dissipates and rises into the warmth. A light mist hugs the water's surface and disguises the coming scenery - waiting to lift at just the right moment to surprise and delight its audience. New rule: we can no longer use the word "awesome" in everyday conversation, as in, "Your new car is awesome!" or "Awesome haircut, Tiffany." I have now seen the truly awesome. Words like dramatic, striking, stunning, incredible, fantabulous...meaningless. They say that on a clear day you can see forever. This day, I saw heaven on earth.