Walking back from the Mountaintop Or: The Powers of Nature

High up in the mountains. Photo: Ulla Hennig

It is great to be in the mountains when the weather is fine: The air is pure, the sky is blue, the grass is green, you feel the sun on your face while you are happily walking up that path. Just a few more steps, and then there you are, on the top of that mountain. You didn’t have to climb, just walk, but nevertheless you are proud of having reached the summit. Far down on one side you can see the little village where you departed from a few hours ago. Just straight in front of you, far away, too, are the really high mountains, majestic towers of stone and ice. And you are standing in the middle of all that beauty, being a part of it.

Then the blue sky is not so blue anymore.  Clouds are rushing in. It is time to go back. The path is full of pebbles, and you have to be careful. You look back over your shoulder in order to see how much time you have got for getting home without being washed away. Then you stop looking back – it takes too much time. The clouds are now in front of you, too. Dark clouds they are, and it is getting colder, and there’s a strong wind blowing.

The first drops are falling, and then the rain comes down. It is not that slight steady rain you know from the city. It’s like standing under a waterfall, and after half an hour you are wet through. Okay, you say, I can get dry again after the next two hours, and you continue walking down that pebbly path, trying not to slide.

Then you see the lightning. And you hear the thunder. You know how dangerous it is to be in the mountains during a thunderstorm. There have been people struck by lightning. It is getting darker and darker. Rain has changed into hail now. You are on your own, desperately looking for some place to hide. You’ve got the funny feeling that you don’t belong, that you are not made for this kind of nature.

The thunder and lightning have stopped. You are cold, your skin is hurting from the rain and the hail, but you see the first neat little houses of that village you came from, and you haven’t seen anything more welcoming in your whole life. You feel a bit proud of having made it in the end, but you are feeling very, very humble as well. That walk back from the mountaintop taught you the powers of nature.

This is  a post contributing to Robert Hruzek’s Group writing project “What I learned from a Mountaintop Experience” over at middlezonemusings.com.