The Law of Unintended Consequences

Sitting in a saddle of the jumbled rock crest, I paused and reflected on the moment: it hadn't been my plan to be there, but I was; and that moment freed me from the heat and mosquitoes that fed on me below, that framed the mile high mountains across the valley, and opened windows of spaces into less traveled ridges and peaks. Yes, behind were the trails, the crowds that would soon be there, and the nearby human settlements. I came there to see. I came to get away. The valley I had come through was beautiful : grey-green lichen fields and meadow flowers in full bloom, fed by small streams that trickled down from the snow melt, meandering through the carved ravines below. But the hike still had seemed unfinished. Six miles in, six miles back out...and in the summer light that hollow space of valley, filled in with a carpet of color, was just a beginning. The dark silhouetted mountain above, jagged against the skyline, came as an afterthought-- but it had to be climbed. Only then could I be satisfied. And there, in the topmost part of the valley, in a notch between the rock spires, a larger picture of the world had opened its book to the airy heights. I had left behind thoughts seeking escape from the hollow confines. The trail had ended there in the valley, fading out the human part, the scars of footsteps hungry for the comforts of completion. A new trail has no past. But it meant 1200 more feet of climb to escape the gravity of the lowlands. Up there in that narrow saddle, the Mind's eye was opened: perhaps, I had arrived by some Law of Unintended Consequences, rewarded by that experience of not to give up until the heart of yearning is stilled. Even so, that moment of sparkling clarity didn't last. Along the western sky the afternoon thunderheads filled and approached. Slowly I descended into the darkened valley...