Altitude Perseveration

A lot of the time I do not know when to come down the mountain.

Literally.

The repair of a tooth today took much less time than expected - and cost much less as well. Since my dentist is in Cumberland it was easy to drive over to Bradbury Mountain State Park to have a climb and a perch on the summit.

Parenthetically it also was a chance to try out my new hiking sticks, which allowed me to fly up the mountain.

The days have been rainy (this photo was taken two weeks ago), I was lucky to be between showers. The ground was very damp, layered in old leaves, pine needles, mud everywhere; rills of water gurgled freely down the slopes, between the roots of the trees.

It was easier to keep your feet dry by walking the path beside the path - though just barely. It was easy to find, well worn under the edge of the trees,  created by the feet of all the walkers preceding me, alongside the regular path when it was overrun by water and mud,

Achieving the summit took me through woods just below the crest - a grey light sponged away all shadows and a mist rose from the damp ground I walked over.

I shared the grey rock of the summit with the same raptor surveyor who had been there before, still at his high-powered monocular, watching diligently for signs of falcons, eagles, hawks and other birds of prey.

A shelf in the stone seemed custom-cut for my back; removing my jacket and folding it behind me gave a perfect spot to sit and let my senses take in the view. It was grey of sky, the green of the trees being the yellowish tint that only comes at this time of year.

I think I fell asleep, if only for a few minutes, the only sounds being songbird calls, the faint drip of water from the treeline, occasional sounds of other walkers and their dogs as they caught their breath at the summit, the animals drinking and splashing in water caught in a well in the rock.

Eventually there was a moment to consider leaving.

This was hard to consider. I had no real appointments, I did have to sit at the piano to finish a birthday tango for a friend but that was it.

I had no real reason to go and every reason to stay. This internal conflict happens to me a lot .....

.... I don't know when to end conversations

.... when to head for home while staying at a weekday getaway

.... don't know when to leave a dance

.... when a friend has listened enough

..... when someone is no longer served by contact with me

I hear people clearly and know what they mean, what they need .... but sometimes I cannot bring myself to meet them where they are.

Or meet myself where I am.

You always have to come down, a hymnbook could be filled with end-of-service songs that talk about leaving sacred space to return to the wicked world.

Foolishly or otherwise I think all spaces are sacred, so, perhaps, that is my best hope to resolve this.

Or, I could wait around trying to make up my mind and get soaked by the rain blowing in from the South.

Sometimes you leave the mountain. Sometimes the mountain leaves you.

Portland, ME