Mountain top images are still persisting as I journey through memories. Some are completely real, others complete euphemism. The summits are places of exhaustion and exhilaration. Like any other moment on the journey they blend as points of both arrival and departure. These two are inseparable.
Skiddaw was a hard slog, slipping on wafer thin shale, digging in with the side of the boot. The distance to the long way below as it gave dizzying disorientation and some nausea!
No looking down!
Just aim for the next scrubby bush …..
only make it to that rock … You see the one there … Above, always above, for we had to aim upwards.
To remember sometimes is great sorrow, but when the remembering has been done, there comes afterwards a very curious peacefulness. Because you have planted your flag on the summit of sorrow. You have climbed it. Sebastian Barry.
The summit is always a lonely place …… Lifting the stone for the cairn.
Building thoughts and feelings, one upon another …… Adding joy, exhilaration, achievement, delight, elation …… and sorrow …… gathering that pile of collected emotion and the turning point of returning and leaving it all behind.
Now there’s no staying, no dwelling, no settling …. but descending ….. Full to the brim with unending thinking ……..