I see the faces that stop by my cart here. Their smiles are hollow, their eyes are hungry. The yogi's faces are different. Silent, complete. Like the mountains around them. Asking no questions, seeking no answers, just certain, as though they knew exactly who they were.

I am the seeker, the act of seeking, and the one who is sought.

All mountain people are like that. No matter where you go, the mountains call you back.

It's not time that is passing by after all, it's you and I