One's first love is always perfect until one meets one's second love. — Elizabeth Aston. English author (1948–2016) Love
It is a sadness of growing older that we lose our ardent appreciation of what is new and different and difficult.
You can't jump down the stairs in one leap, however much you might wish to, and you even more surely can't jump up it, but one step and then the next and there you are, at the top or the bottom and not a bit out of breath or discomposed.
Mountains inspire awe in any human person who has a soul. They remind us of our frailty, our unimportance, of the briefness of our span upon this earth. They touch the heavens, and sail serenely at an altitude beyond even the imaginings of a mere mortal.