Close your eyes.

You're now transported to a rolling unflattened world blanketed in white, peppered with slivers of black marking snow melted on black rock. The train you're in barrels on at unparralled speed to any other locomotive sevice in the continent as the fresh air outside whisks by with bits of flakes hit against the window, a temporary assault before melting into obscurity with other snowflakes. Inside you're in the bliss of comfort, snuggled up safe and warm, the aroma of sweet hot tea in the air, biscuits being passed around, the warmth of family.

You watch the surrounding mountainside with a mixture of awe and engagement. Awe at the power of He who created the movement of rock that peaked into mountains that lay beneath a magnificent endless range of pure white. Non-duplicable by mankind, but however providing us with a consistent sense and avenue for scientific enquiry and endeavour. Yet over time we understand we will never be able to even come close to understanding the totality of knowledge embedded within what lies before us.

You rake your eyes over the endless range, white-tipped peaks as far as the eyes can see, trying to take in everything with your naked eye, but you understand that you really can't commit it all to photographic memory. The most you can do is to paint a picture in your minds eye and have confidence that it will last you for a lifetime. You feel small and inconsequential, as you understand that these mountains have been lying here ever since the many peoples that came before you, you feel...time is an adage that is unprecedented and created by the Controller, Who looks into you as a miniscular part of the big picture.

At that point in time, you're overwhelmed with the sheer magnitude of power and grace contained within these alps,


the struggle of mankind to conquer what's imaginable to his mind as the train moves slinking its way further up the mountains,



and the possible inconsequentiality of your time on this Earth.