La Montagne du Vieux« An editorial from La Vieille Montagne »A soft, fragrant wind blows through my hair and tingles all my wonderful senses, greens, browns and grays float through my sight. I'm home in a loving place called the Big Horn Mountains, that's where I grew up. This place, even before I was born, was an escape from city life for my family, and this tradition has been strengthened during my lifetime. Some of my earliest memories as a child were in the mountains, in our little secluded two-bedroom cabin, off the main road at Deer Haven Lodge. Things were fantastic, activities like tag and hide and seek were children's games and city life stuff, in the mountains there were real games. Games like Hunter and Caveman, where our imaginations took us to places our city lives could only have achieved in our dreams. Life was a breeze and I was a leaf that flowed endlessly, but soon there was a reason to change. Growing up in this life that seemed like a dream, I gradually became aware of the change that was taking place in this beautiful place that I loved. Soon, things changed so quickly that the next generation of my family will likely be denied the freedoms in nature that I had growing up. It pains me very much to say this, because the way things are starting to evolve, I may not have my special place at all, and neither will my descendants. Initially, memories show that my mountain of the past was beautiful, peaceful and above all completely calm. There was no traffic on the weekend of a few families, "Camping" in the Big Horns, they all went elsewhere, leaving our little mountain to itself. This peace was caused...... middle of paper ......ter, still a burn marks the ground where it rested. Even though it was for the better of the mountain, it still strikes me deeply every time that I am now able to see the entire forest from the steps of the cabin and see everything that was once shrouded in trees, whitened by the sudden sun. appearance of light. Mountains played an important role in my childhood, with lessons learned and imagination flourishing. Whether from the enormous pile of trees which, by cutting them, revealed the mysteries of the forest and with them my youth. Or the mountain which is deteriorating due to the neglect of its new visitors, just like the forests which surround it. Clearly you can see how the Big Horns are essential to a fun-filled childhood filled with fond memories, so act quickly or it may be too late for future generations..