“Don’t you wish we could save this view,” she says. It’s not a question.

We look across miles of mountain tops.

We’ve reached the peak of one of them and I snap pictures like a mad woman.

Until I turn off my camera.

It’s an impossible task. Documenting majesty. Who does that?

A week later, I sink my toes into red sand as the edge of the Atlantic pushes against my ankles.

I snap a picture.

It’s like a castle in a snow globe. A tiny, obscure castle in a snow globe.

A copy of a copy of a copy.

“Do you think there will be mountains in heaven?” she asks me.

I don’t answer. I don’t know.

There will be God in heaven.

I watch the waves churn. All of this creation. A copy of a copy of a copy.

It leaves me wanting more of something greater.

A day yet to come.

Glory.

“ ‘Behold the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.’” Revelation 21:3b