The Four

GiaB prompt #14: Being in nature

We were a group of four. Four people with a playful curiosity about the outdoors and who still had plenty to discover when it came to nature. But four people meant safety, security, and sanity whilst we scaled the mountain.

We were going on an adventure. We began early, driving to our starting point as the bright, spring sun rose in the sky. We were excited, jovial, ready to take on the challenge. Ready to announce to everyone around us “I completed it.”

The track we’d chosen wasn’t the easiest, but it was the most direct. We were stunned to see that the car park was heaving with vehicles that early in the morning. We realised then that there were a lot of other people out there with the urge to conquer the mountain.

The ascent was immediate, sloping and gradual, quickly creating a slow burn in the thigh muscles. At first, the rough-hewn rocks were our stepping stones to the top, but they soon became the obstacles on our path to success. Legs moved but lungs struggled with the exertion of the climb.

Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Breathe in the clean smell of the flora and fauna around us. Exhale our stresses and worries.

As we continued upwards, the fire that had blazed within us began to waver. Straps on backpacks broke, boots started rubbing. Muscles began to ache, and we could see lines of people zigzagging up the side of the mountain, the steepest part still yet to come. Still far in the distance. The mass of earth beneath our feet was not going to let us simply stroll to the summit.

It was the beauty of the scenery all around that propelled us forwards. We began to understand there was power there. Dormant but formidable power. Each dramatic valley reminded us that it only took one tumble to end up a broken shell of who we’d been before. Each upwards glance towards the sheer mountainside made it clear that we were only little mice scurrying along the back of a grand old elephant, so unimportant that she didn’t even know we were there.

We weren’t walking up the mountain; she was granting us access to her.

There came a point where fatigue told us we couldn’t possibly reach the summit, not when the steepest, most treacherous part was yet to come. Self-doubt took root. Slick, wet hair was pushed back off hot, sticky foreheads. The merry sunshine that had waved us off earlier decided to make only the briefest of appearances every now and then. When it was gone, the shadows were cold.

Stop. Have a breather. Hands were on hips. Legs were wobbly. Here, have a sweet. The sugar will do you good. Gritted teeth.

But we were four. Four different personalities, strengths, and weaknesses. Four different pillars of support with the right words to chivvy along the weary. Keep going, keep going.

There was a collective consciousness streaming up and down the mountainside. Individually, we were little scurrying mice, but together we were a river of people with a current determined to see through its course. We snaked around stone bulging from the dirt determined to bar our way, leant into the bends pretending to steer us off track. We kept going, going, going.

Then, relief. Not the expected exaltation of conquerors on new land. Relief that we were worthy of reaching our destination and the ultimate prize: the bird’s eye view of the world around us. We could feel in the soil under our shoes that the dominant force of the mountain had accepted us. The respect we had needed to earn on our journey was now offered to us. The grand old elephant had acknowledged the scurrying mouse.

We were four. Four people who had acquired nature’s wisdom but who still had much to discover. Four people who had scaled the mountain.