I stood on the high peak, looking out at the hidden landscape before me. The sun was struggling to lift itself up, after a restless night. The fog was dense, weighing down the start of the day.
This was not at all what I had hoped for. It was a struggle to get here.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to enjoy the moment. But I couldn't. I couldn't see the beauty. I didn't know where I was anymore. Lost by what I could not see.
The air was thick. My chest felt heavy. In my panic to take a breath, I lost my footing. Unable to control the inevitable, I fell backwards into the unknown.
I couldn't stop the fall. Everything was blurry. The rocks were cold and sharp. Failing to cushion my fall. This was never going to end.
Then stillness. I opened my eyes. I was at the bottom of all the rocks. I was bruised and in pain. But not broken.
I fell far. How did I survive? How am I going to get out of here? I am alone. Except for the rocks.
There is no where to go but up. I start my assent. Slow and unsure. Strategic and instinctual. Struggling, but determined. The rocks gently hugging me, showing me the way back up.
I am back on the peak. The sun woke up gently, like a baby from a sleepy nap. It lifted the fog with it's warmth and a new day was born.
I could see the vast beauty before me.
I could see the vast beauty before me. I was found exactly where I was supposed to be.