Wild Moment: Heather Bird
A poem inspired by being last one up Schiehallion on a chilly, bright, blustery December day.
Chasing away the Christmas cobwebs
A day to take to the mountains
The forecast is looking good
Swithering as my alarm clock rings
Should I really brave those blustery winds?
Will it be snowy? Will I get hurt?
Is it safe to go alone today...
I ponder asking another to come along
Friends are working...what about the one with whom I feel I belong...
Today I’d rather be alone with the wilds
Rather than be a secret escapade: hushed and hidden behind the veils
I get my act together and drive up through the woods
And the valleys past drumlins and peaks with snowy hoods
Lacing up my pink boots, my steps hit the trail
The air is so fresh!
There’s a skip in my step, I won’t fail
Although the journey ahead looks long
Apprehension, did I set off too late?
Will dark clouds roll in to seal my fate?
As the path begins to steepen
My legs turn to lead
Lungs are working hard
And fighting words fill up my head
One foot in front of the other
It’s all I have to do
Singing a song of joy
Thinking of freedom together with you
Soon, tricky big boulders, take up all my focus
And keeping my balance needs attention
Caught up wholly in the moment,
Completely relieving all tension
A few more false summits to go, as the panoramic vistas expand
Smiling faces passing by as they head back down: ‘It’s not far now!’
Their words of encouragement give me a helping hand
The blustery gales pick up strong
Is it just one more summit along?
I’m taken aback by the sun
Shining brightly burning off clouds one by one
And suddenly... I’m done !
I’m at the top and now I can clearly see
That if it wasn’t for the clouds of our ego protection
We wouldn’t experience the beauty of the unveiling of our heartsong in complete perfection
Hues of colours that words can’t describe
The dusky pink light, my whole being embibes
And I feel completely at one
With the fabric of everything we have become
All is in perfect order
With the sound of the earth’s gently beating drum
As I head back down, feeling ecstatic inside
The air is an electric spectrum of pinks, oranges, purples...
There are no fears left to hide
The stormy winds all die down
All is peaceful, still and calm
I feel like I’m floating down the mountain
In this resonant frequency, embalmed
At the bottom there’s a cool, fresh stream
Too icey today for a full immersion dook!
But my tired feet enjoy a splash as
Toward the mountain-scape I breathe in deeply one final look
