A Song for the Son

Heights

Many times I have stood at the edge of a cliff and felt no fear.  Many times I have stood on a ledge and not been concerned with the long view to the earth below.

This day was different.

It was not different because I had suddenly lost confidence.  It was not the precipice on which I stood that caused me to cower, nor did it conjure up anxiety as it held me in its rocky grip.  Heights and depths were known to me.  I had been trained to be aloft.  I had long ago mastered the ability to climb through sunlight and shadow; through darkness and mist.  I was one with the rocky steepness.  I was sure footed when in motion.  I stood firm when I was at rest.  This was my comfort.

No, it was not the mountain that caused me pause, it was when I looked to the horizon and my breath was caught at the sight of the grey tumult that roiled there. Clouds of mystery and static, a rapid interplay of dark, light and noise, rumbled towards me.  The lightning and the thunder declared that today was the day the clouds would come home.

In my arrogance I remained bold.

In my ignorance I remained self assured.

The first raindrops brought with them a sting of ice, and as I climbed my footing became unsure.  Rocks became coated in a nearly invisible glaze of treachery.  Once as my hand slid from its purchase my foot almost lost friction as well, but I managed to hold on and to regain my place.  As the freezing rain attacked the parts of me that were exposed, so to doubt attacked my normally immovable confidence.  I had a long way to go before I could rest, and I was starting to wonder if I was going to make it.

At one point my free hand could not reach the next handhold, and having committed myself to my current position I realized I could not return from where I had just come. My mind refused to accept the fact that I was stuck, and I frantically looked for an alternate path, an unknown handhold, a way forward.  Time passed, how much I’m not sure, and it was at that moment of utmost despair that a small bird appeared some ways ahead of me in front of an icy outcropping that sprang from the mountainside.

It was hurt.  It’s left wing was obviously distended and close to the ground.  I was convinced that in its current condition it would succumb to its injuries within the hour. I had to save it.

With renewed vigor I sought out any available handhold or foothold, and finding none I looked once more at the bird and my heart broke for it. In that same look I saw again the original handhold that I had been trying to reach, but due to the icy conditions there was no way I could stretch far enough to reach it.

Unless I jumped.

Unless I gathered all my strength, and focused all my will, and took all that I knew and made the leap.  Doubt laughed in the back corridors of my mind.  Indecision echoed and amplified the doubt.  Rain dripped into my eyes and as I turned to wipe it away I realized that tears had become mixed with the rain water.  There was no hope.

The bird chirped.  The bird so small and frail chirped and the chirp carried through the hail and sleet and caught me by the heart and I was filled once again with a desire to help it.

I leapt.

My hand found the handhold and grabbed it with a strength I did not know that I had. For a moment my one hand held me in the balance, and then one foot, and then the other, and finally my other hand.  All of me had found a hold on the mountain face.  I was held secure, and I could start to climb towards the bird.

The going after the leap went quickly, but as I approached the bird it moved away, just a little, out of fear I supposed, and it continued to chirp.  Climbing slowly now I whispered to it to not be afraid, that I was coming to help, that I would set the wing, and share my food, and we would find shelter and everything would be well for the two of us as we waited out the storm.

I climbed a little ways.  The bird, more cheerful now, chirped and hopped along the ledge it was on, which was getting wider.

As I gained the ledge, and moved towards the bird, it moved around the far corner out of my sight, quickly I reached the corner, and turned to see the bird standing in the mouth of a small cave.  It chirped now as if extending an invitation, as it hopped into the dryness, I noticed its wing was no longer dragging on the ground.  With a flutter it flew into the cave and up unto a cozy ledge.

The storm raged louder now, and as I entered the cave the full force of its fury began. Torrents of rain, flashes of  lightning, and thunder back to back rolled over itself.  With raging, pounding wrath it ripped against the mountainside.  I knew at that moment that there was no way I would have survived.

Another chirp caused me to look up, and in that moment I smiled at my new friend and whispered, “Thank you.”