We can’t understand the world around us, because it is designed in a way that is incomprehensible to us. We spend our lives striving towards making sense of it all. The question is why? People need an explanation of the world and the eternity of which they form just a single part. We have been divided into groups, each having been supplied with the capacity of knowing just a single aspect of its – space, time, sound, being, atom... and sensations. The need to feel the world and not necessarily understand it, is a core that powers the mechanism of any traveler. Setting out on a journey towards the discovery of the „theory of everything“ doesn't necessarily mean reaching it, the same way journey does not promise arrival. It is the travel itself, and the accompanying discoveries, that matter. It is crucial just to begin. February. One of those months where the role of sunlight is to sharpen the view of a bared nature, awaiting a long period of recovery and regrowth. The remaining snow and the newly-formed mud create an interesting blend, which is ideal for skating and falling abruptly. We should say that sneakers are not the best choice for such terrain. It was just the topic my father and I discussed while driving towards the nearby mountain, looking at our old sneakers and longing for dry weather and dry feet. We expected the walk to be an easy one, followed by a short climb, guided by my father’s memories of his conquering the mountain’s summit a long time ago. It wasn’t like that. Memories tend to fade and lead us astray, so we ended up looking directly at a small and sharp pyramid and not at a track with beautifully sculpted paths and a little fence. The first challenge was, of course, the mud, which stuck persistently to our sneakers, making the climb even more interesting and, owing to my father’s childlike spirit, rather entertaining. He had always been an adventurer… unfortunately, certain life choices had trapped that aspect of his personality, giving me an opportunity to perceive it only at the moments like this. We started climbing. At the very beginning, we came across a group of mountaineers, who were teaching their members how to use ice crampons properly. Observing the unwritten code of conduct for travelers, we exchanged a few casual words – theirs, mainly being a criticism, concerning the general carelessness of people in circumstances like this. I don’t have the faintest idea about the impression we left at that moment, considering the fact that we were not well equipped and that we overtook the whole group very fast. We never liked to “test our luck”, but one should assume that we unconsciously tested it each time we made a journey. Once we raced towards a stream at the end of a steep hillock. We had to reach for tree trunks – one after another. Dust and gravel were in charge of providing us with the necessary speed at which, without the assistance of a tree trunk, one certainly arrives first, but does not land on their feet. Now there was not gravel in front of us anymore – but pieces of ice reminiscent of marbles, rolling and making each movement even more difficult – one of them found its way into a sneaker of mine, making even the upper layer of the sock wet. That may have created a better balance in the wetness of that foot. “Watch out!“ The steeper it was, the louder the words uttered. They accompanied me every time I reached for the rope the same way my unsatisfied look followed my father each time he said that. He feared for my safety. At those moments, my desire to travel alone was as strong as my fear of cruelty and mercy that none of us deserves – yet gets unexpectedly. We finally reached the top of the mountain. The view from the peak is never the essence – it is a reward. I have decided that those should be the moments for which I live as there is no rule telling us how to receive and understand a view, a path, a place… we do it sincerely and freely. We took several photos, a few of which, as it was usually the case, turned to be good, and we slowly went back. This time, we were not able to avoid sliding and falling down. The result was 3:2 in my father’s favor. The mountaineers witnessed one of the falls, the guide sacrificing her phone prevented me from ending up on the same rock where sadly the phone did. She did not mind or at least hid that very well. We finally reached the starting point and were headed toward our car, feeling happy about the ease of movement the pavement gave us. We have reached the beginning. February, a bared month...“We should wear boots next time, it is too early for sneakers“. We discussed that while driving home, with our sneakers drying on the back seat and with our spare socks on. We were returning home – the same stories, the same road, but... The world around us is not changing. We are mistaken in spending so much time trying to understand it and not realizing that what we only need to do is to see it. One look after another, and the same stories and roads will start to fit into the puzzle that is one's life.