View from the Summit

On Christmas Eve, I took a walk up Mount Carrig. Its not a big hill, but although its visible from my kitchen window, its many years since I last went to the top. Most of it is easy walking, but towards the summit,.its extremely steep, and you have to scramble up the rocks.
I thought I was great until a rock tipped under my foot, and I slid sideways amid big rocks and boulders. As I fell, I felt certain I would break my ankle or my leg, and suddenly I realised that I might have no phone signal up here, and that I had not told anyone where I was going.
Visions of a cold, dark Christmas Eve stuck up here in the rocks passed through my mind in the nano seconds as I fell.
I managed to land with only a bruised shin. Picking myself up, I resumed the scrambling far more carefully.A voice in my head berating me "how old do you think you are? what do you think you're doing?"
I almost turned back. But something in me wanted to reach the summit.
Some minutes later, I got there. The wind was very strong up here, and I stood., alone, on the summit, arms outsretched, catching the wind. Up at the top, there is a fairly flat area of exposed Wicklow granite rock. I felt connected to the rock, to the wind, to the scenery, to the world. I felt connected to Christmas and the message of new life. I felt present.
                                                 It was worth the climb.


Post a Comment