I'd like to think that love is a lot like a mountain range. A lover is nothing but a traveler in the valley until they stumble upon something greater-something that provokes curiosity and tempts them to explore a new terrain. As the traveler progresses up the mountain, they learn new things, encounter new obstacles and put in time and work. By the time the traveler reaches the mountains peak, it has become familiar with it's ground, it's terrain, it's scent.Then, after reaching the highest point, the traveler can look back down at the valley and appreciate the work it took to get there. He can lull around a while at the mountains top and bask in the sunlight. And when the sun sets and it grows dark and cold, even as the traveler descends back down the other side of the mountain, he can look back and admire the beauty of it all. And once again, the lover is a traveler, although a bit more experienced-strolling in the valley, waiting for it's next mountain.