I stayed up too late
It’s morning and I’m tired
We have plans to go for a hike today
Doing nothing sounds more exciting
But staying home all day is a bad idea
The kids fight when they get bored
Committed, we battle our way into the car
Shouting orders and threatening
We hope the effort is worth the struggle
Tense and quiet we drive an hour
Arriving at the trailhead expectantly
The bathrooms are dingy and smell like urine
The forest is heavy with moss
Condensation gathers on thick mountain clovers
Decaying logs patiently nurse saplings
Winding through stoic pines
The trail goes up
Our legs burn between heavy wet breaths
Switchback after switchback rises
Meeting each false horizon with fresh realism
Revealing interrupted views of the path above
Fatigue and hunger erode the frustration
The morning evaporates as we count mile markers
Searching for the summit
Silently we eat apples and granola bars
While we study the ocean on the horizon
The view from the summit is spectacular but it’s cold
We don’t stay long
On the way down we laugh
Counting each time we slip on the loose rocks
-T. Weeks
(A response to “BOOK XVIII: A Broadway Pageant”)
Life Immense 