In the Hills

As I turn from the beauty of the world and the future, I gaze forward and look in horror as I stare into the eyes of death

As the Jeep rolls to a stop on the banks of a river I step out of the jeep, with my father and feel the soft sand give way under the heels of my boots. I stand in awe of the beauty that my eyes behold. Lush green pine trees stand tall reaching into the heavens, where only the feathered creatures dare to tread. I look to my left and see a battle that has been taking place since the dawn of time, as water chisels and beats away at the bare rock; however, the rock is not easily overcome.  It pushes back causing the water to turn in frustration and foaming at its mouth, snarling, it continues. I then follow the battle up the shoreline as it progress to where I see the water cascading over the weathered face of the mountain. The thunder is deafening as the frigid water plunges over the stone walls falling evermore until it crashes down onto the grief stricken pebbled floor of the river bead. The ground quakes as the water surges and charges forward crashing into yet another stone sentinel. He will not yield for he has been here for generations and will not give away his home so easy. His body shivers and moans as the waves crash over his shoulders. As the sand gives way his body falls backward and crashes into his fellow comrades knocking off pieces of his armor. He reaches and grasps for air and reaches with the last of his energy to the sky as if he was reaching for a friend. I just stare as his body falls below the waves, never to be seen again. The water is not yielding as it presses onward into the horizon.

 After watching the river for some time and eating our lunches my father and I climb into the jeep and press further up the country side. Still hearing the river in the background my father brings the jeep to a screeching halt. My father beckons me to turn his direction and look towards the forest;  as I do I see a small fawn and its mother resting just outside the timberline.  I stare as I see their figures rise off the bead of prairie grass; legs slender and toned, bodies lean and fluid, and ears standing at attention. Fearing that I might miss something, I grasp my binoculars and raise them to my eyes. It is said that the eyes are the gateway to the soul , so as I peer down the lenses I make eye contact with the mother and gaze into the very fabric of her soul. I do not see fear and animosity, but love and compassion. This surprised me so much that I continued to watch for what felt like years. I then turned to the child and observed as it danced threw the meadow with such bliss. How I wish I could be like the fawn in the forest not having a care or a fear in the world. They slowly turn from us and fade back into their home of the forest. As the dear continue home se continue on our adventure

As we travel some distance down the road I turn in my seat to gaze towards the meadow to hopefully rest my eyes on the peaceful fawn and doe one last time; or perhaps, catch a glimpse of the mighty river. I start to notice the trees growing thinner and smaller the further we delve into the back-country. And as I turn from the beauty of the world and the future, I gaze forward and look in horror as I stare into the eyes of death. A body lies across the hill side. No flesh, just bleached bones scattered over the rubble that was humanity. Feeling beckoned I walk towards the remains of the mine.  I stretch out my hand and touch the cold steal of old doors. I begin to push them open as rust flies, the groaning hinges the latch gives way and the doors slide open laying bear the heart of the compound.  Light fell into the space that had been vacant for so long, casting shadows on the existence that once dwelled in this place. The walls of the tomb stand bleak and empty with little remains of the life that used to cling to them. Belts and pulleys scatted over the concrete. A desk was propped up against the wall bearing a little prospect I marched on climbing the collapsed stairs, alone.

I reached the second level in a room whose roof and walls had disappeared. There were no remnants of the room at all, no splinters, no fragment of timber nothing. It was as if someone or something had lifted the whole thing and carried it to another dimension.  There was plenty of destruction lying around the platform of rock and dirt, but no room. These led me to question and speculate as to the destruction of this place and the downfall of the men who operated this place. I looked further up the mountain and saw the compound stretched for many for floors like a decrepit staircase to a false heaven of wealth and prosperity that was the dream of businessmen. Seeking answers, I pressed on and climbed the blown out walls and sunken floors

I reached the pinnacle of the complex and stood on top of what I thought was a structure for holding water, as I stare at the sun falling towards the horizon I felt transported to a plane where life had not existed for several millennia; a place of sublime and higher thinking.  My brain began to fill with a rush of knowledge and new sense of understanding. Feeling overwhelmed I fell to my knees and sat there in a trance-like state and meditated on my new found knowledge. For no matter what we do as man, whether it is moving mountains, controlling the elements, taming the sea, or carving out an existence in this inhospitable planet. When we are gone, nature will always prevail. No more will we rape the fruits of her soil and the produce of her loin. Crashing hammers give way to rushing water. Moving pistons get pushed away scaling roots.  Steam will be blown away by the winds of change.  Steal will rust as life springs from the ashes. The Phoenix that is life will always find a way to be born again.