The mountain
We pull up to the house. The house which has with stood the depression and has seen my mother grow from a infant barely able to walk to the strong, independent women she is today. I yell to my mom that me and Nova, My pit bull/yellow lab mix are going to climb the mountain. She yells back to be careful but I barely hear her as I think of what it would be like to grow up in such a place. I climb the mountain and make it up to the logging road. I stop to catch my breath and I glance to my right and look up and strain to see as far up the mountain as I can. You can’t see the top of it, no matter how hard you look. In a way I think the mountain laughs at anyone who dares to climb it. It knows they will not succeed. I say out loud that we will not be climbing any higher today, but one day I will be back to challenge that laugh. I then turn to my left and glance down at the little stream and all it’s islands. I laugh as I look at the one covered in trash. My brother and sister made it. It always brings a smile to my face just thinking about it. They had walked all over the mountain looking for trash to put on it, and my what a sight it was, wires and tires and tin cans too and oh how proud they were of it. I then look ahead at the road and notice Nova whining softly and tugging on the lead anxious to get walking again. I again begin walking but after a few steps my pace quickens. Something inside me is screaming your free your free run, run as fast as you can. There is something swelling up in my chest, an excitement I can’t contain, I can’t take it any more and brake out in a dead run, Nova easily keeping up with me and smiling because she loves being here and loves running. My feet pound hard on the ground to the beat of my heart. I don’t notice I’m almost out of breath all I can think about it running. I run until I can physically run no more. I collapse on the ground gasping for air, Nova sitting beside me panting. I wish I would have brought water to quench her thirst and mine. I feel like I’ve just won the lottery. That swelling is back in my chest, I want to run again, but know I can’t, not yet, not now. We take a brake and then decide to head back. I walk slowly thinking about what just happened. Why had I felt the need to run? Why had I felt so free? But most importantly, why had I felt like I was finally home? Like I finally belonged? When we finally arrive at the opening where we came onto the road I stop. I quietly whisper to the mountain I will be back again. I begin to walk down the mountain but something is calling me to go back up to that road and run again. I whisper I can’t, I have to go. Then I say again “I will be back. Yes, I will be back, even if it’s only in my dreams, and that’s a promise.”
That takes place at my grams house. I will take pictures of where I'm talking about next time we go down.
Ash
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