Mountain & Sun, the gods

The ridge of the mountain across the short valley rises against the sun making a last attempt to mute out the first rays of the day. He shouts out, that watchful soldier of the night, “Stand down, Sun! I’m not ready for the light of day!” His erect and ominous form stands forever at the ready. His never changing pose remains steady year after year, in fact for more years than I can be held accountable to understand, for that is the essence of the entire geological record.

I watch through a light mist as colors of deep purple and chocolate brown drain from his bold exterior, the sun stealing his essence as she rises to assert her dominance over the day, once again forcing the mountain into play. He must submit to the sun goddess each and every day, at least for a time until the night shadows allow his power to rise up into full strength again.

I love to look at the mountain lighted slowly and painfully into emanating brilliance of burnt orange and golden brown, an obligatory reflection of the sun goddess’ undeniable wisdom. The mountain has witnessed millenniums of passing. It has held the roots of life and death, green dotted slopes supporting trees and shrubs that cannot possibly understand the eternal clock ticking ever so slowly within the solidity to which they are bound for their short existence. Born from fire and folding deep within the earth’s heart, the mountain can boast of his power and knowledge from his tall peaks and sheer cliffs. As the day wans, I hear his laughter coming from deep within his crags, echoing down his steep slopes and ending in a roar at his alluvial valleys.

Those two gods who are patron supporters of life, frame a simple existence that is lived well. It is a life lived mostly in the hills above a little V shaped valley, a sanctuary above the city. The gods provide a shelter from the fast and furious human foundations that create a heat singeing frenzy of never ending human to-dos and must complies, the reality of living within the human race. I have found a chapel in the hills, so-to-speak, a protection from the dismay of run ragged inhabitants from the city below. I will continue to observe and worship, listen and learn from the wisdom of the gods, as they seem to hold key essential knowledge to surviving daily battles and infinite existence.

C.S. Mack Author