A Trail Climbed Once
We climbed through the mist, past gossamer threads strung across branches, past the wild blueberries clinging to bushes. An early morning rain left the path slippery. The sun soaked up the mist, drawing it out of the lower part of the trail. We began to climb over rocks warmed by the sun. I listened to the sound of my hiking stick reading the granite as the path began to gain height. My breath labored as the trail raced to reach each outcropping, creating a vertical rise. We stopped to drink water and eat some gorp. We climbed for hours before reaching the top. The place where the sky rested on the granite. Climbing down is a return to the reality of everyday.