Mountain air. Even through city streets I recognize the smell of it. Fresh. Heavy. Polluted by the time it reaches my nose, but I know it. I sit at the edge of my bed right next to the open window and stare at the horizon, how the warm summer sun envelopes the city. I feel the soft, heavy breeze of the mountain air even here in my apartment. It makes me wish I was not here in the city. It makes me miss home, where my window faced a large field and the woods beyond. I look below my windowsill and there is only a school building and a street. We industrialize everything we see. Will the mountains find a way to avoid our havoc?