Parking lot is already half full with groups of people gathering at the starting line. I walk towards them, wondering how I’m going to find my small group, as one calls out my name. I recognize his wavy hair, and I call out another. Moments later, two more arrive. We have all found one another despite meeting only once before.
“I wonder if it’s going to clear. I really hope it does”
“It will… We may even see some rainbows later. Or, it won’t. Anicca”
M starts humming, the familiar sound of Goenkaji, marking the end of suffering. Soothing and familiar, we laugh out loud.
Halfway up, we break through the clouds. Sparkling stars light the clear blue sky. Moving headlights of fellow hikers add to the constellation above and behind us.
We veer left, away from chain ladders, choosing a less popular route. We reach the ridge, just before the last push before the summit. Setting on a flat surface, marveling at the clouds below us.
We’re happy not to summit, having been here before. Happy to escape the crowd. We are blessed to be residents of this great city, not having to hurry. Free to come back whenever we want to.
“I want to jump in, it looks so soft.”
Cotton candy clouds. Layers and depth beyond our wildest imagination separate us from the world below. “Look, it’s like waves!”
Thick white clouds rise. Swell rolls in front of our eyes, slow and gentle. Peaks form, wave circling downwards. Sea spray breaks free, burning through the atmosphere. It looks like a wave, suspended, as if fast forwarding a paused frame.
A man walks on by, playing “a whole new world” from Aladdin. Fitting. I love that song.
Another M starts singing, “Here comes the sun” by the Beatles.
And the sun rises above the mountains, between two peaks, orange and red in front of us, blue and pink behind us. How is the same sky bleeding different colors? We take snapshots of each other and our surroundings. Offering and receiving generous cup of coffee and milk.
A couple plays a game, pushing and pulling each other. Click click click.
Another couple poses, a young and gentle energy. So sweet and joyful, my heart swells with best wishes. Click click click.
“Would you like a fig?”
“I love figs, thanks!”
I didn’t bring a jacket to keep warm. I don’t often dwell. My body starts to shiver, and I need to get moving.
“Bye!”, abruptly, I bid farewell. I need to go, I am cold. I descend quickly.
Later, we exchange photos.
“Thank you for the beautiful photos!”
“Thank you for being beautiful!”
Why do we look better in our still frames taken by others, compared to the ones we take of ourselves?
You are more beautiful and wonderful than you will ever see of yourself.
This love letter is to adventures.
To venturing outside, to unknown territories.
To saying yes to 5am hikes and making new friends along the way.
To imagining the sweetness of cotton candy clouds.
To creating futures with present actions.
To breaking through the clouds, rising higher and together.
To seeing far and wide.
To cherishing what is right in front of us.
Like this mountain, 15 minute-drive from my sanctuary.
Thirteen, a baker’s dozen.
Back in the day, bakers gave an extra loaf when selling a dozen to avoid penalty of selling short weight.
What do you give away for free? How about a smile? A gentle wave? A friendly ‘how do you do’?
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