Squinting up, I look up at the mountain top. It appears just like the dreamy posters back home. The summit of the hill is lined with pine trees; the trail strewn with little pine cones. Baby clouds frolic in the sky. Wind shushes through the lines of trees. It sounds almost like an ocean behind the daunting forest cover.
I begin my trek.
The trekking trail is strewn with rocks, some of it paved, and the rest uneven. Little birds touch base with me before scattering as I ascend the rough steps. They drag my eyes to the cliffside. The all-encompassing snow-capped mountains in the distance smile back at me as I stop to take a picture. Sunlight cascades down the rusty skin of the tall pines, as the sun peeks through the shy crowns of the old trees.
I stop as the trail comes to a halt. Henceforth, the path is steeper. Kind trees lend me their strong roots as I hold on to them and pull myself up the side of the hill. I sit on the ledge, over the sprawling roots, dangling my feet. The sky is almost hidden. My view above is decked instead with leaves and branches intermingling, the brilliant blue of the sky peeking but occasionally.
As I look down, I see the grounds strewn with dying, amber leaves, looking up longingly at their friends that are still attached to their mothers- the trees, probably reflecting upon their days of fluttering in the winds. Dust on the ground caresses them, promising a new home, and a new life that is to come soon.
As I walk ahead, the shoulders brush up against cold creepers; unknown flowers bloom on their slender bodies, drenching their homes in colours other than green. The rogues among the dust flow beneath my feet just as sand wuthers down the neck of an hourglass.
Often, I can see deep pits along the forest trail uphill. The faint, irregular rustling of dry leaves remind me how I am a mere guest in this realm of nature. As the wind occasionally stops making music atop trees, the orchestra of crickets seems to tell me that I am not alone.
Gathering my belongings, I begin climbing again. Soon the sidewalk leads to a clearing. Once again, the snow-capped magnificence of the Himalayas appears before me. As I sit down to catch my breath, other trekkers walk by me, smiling as they go.
The towering trees stare back at me. What many turns of history must they have witnessed! Their feet untouched by mankind, they watch over their sacred land. Turning my gaze, I face a fallen warrior. Once a warrior fending his land against the mighty winds, the ancient tree now lies on the bed of grasses, surrounded by his fellows. Fallen, not defeated.
Birds fly over my head. They are headed to their homes. The crimson of twilight envelops the forest as the chill descends. The sun hides behind silent summits. Darkness descends.
Suddenly, through the roof of the trees above bursts the waves of moonlight. I continue on my path, the moon herself guarding my path. Stars sit upon the sky, rubbing their eyes, as they wake from their slumber and prepare to dance as the night rolls ahead.
The path before me narrows down. It winds around the hill, deep in embrace. A blanket of darkness has enveloped them both. Flowers adorned with glistening dew twinkle at my heels.
I hear little paws swishing behind bushes as the little inhabitants of the woods scuttle, startled by my footsteps. A jackal howls in the distance. I look back. There is no return now.
The silent mountain range sleeps embracing the village at the heart of its valley. Little lights twinkle back at me from the houses at the foot of the hill. Smoke rises from the huts; bonfire flickers and electric bulbs stare back at me from the depths of the chasm.
I turn with the winding path, clutching the rocky walls, carefully trudging over the treacherous sandy trail. Unruly reeds scratch past my knees; shrubs sway ominously in the wind. The howl of a dog whiffs past my ears carried by the wind.
Feeling uneasy, I squint up at the mountain top. There, ho! Finally, the homely glow of several halogen light bulbs of a primitive shelter marks the end of the trail. A wave of relief washes over me.
And just like that, I wish the journey was not over.
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