The Mountain

Today I climbed a mountain and alone I stand at the peak. Around me the world stretches in every direction like a patchwork quilt spread at my feet. The wind is brisk and chill up here, cooling the sweat of the climb. My fingernails are black and my palms lined with dirt from contact with the trail. I take off my shoes and socks to feel the pebbly earth between my toes. Everything is dirt and rock, and the clouds passing overhead deluge me in whirling shadows.  My ears are full of the wind. My skin is chill with it. The sound reminds me of the surge of ocean waves. It too is dull, deep, and ever present, surging in and out, enveloping this mountain of stone, bouncing off the surfaces and sending echoes in every direction.