The Path Between Dusk And Dawn

The path between dusk and dawn lies some 4,971 feet about sea level. The climb to the path is arduous. The climb to the path is overgrown, rocky, muddy, mostly uphill, and not easily bested. Those who persevere are rewarded first with a most impressive view of Wy' east.
The mountain appears almost as if from nowhere some 11,000 feet in height. When it shows itself one cannot help but be taken in by its singular nature and its solid, dominating presence. Those who persevere further still may climb up to the Path.
Many who make this final climb are rewarded with impressive views in all directions. The surrounding peaks can all be seen. One is humbled by the fact that you are able to see hundreds of miles away in all directions. Many assume that this is the reward and descend before nightfall and all that comes with it. If you look for it there is a small campsite and fire ring big enough for perhaps one or two people. That is where I spent last night.
The sun sank below the western hills turning the sky from blue to yellow to orange to red and then to purple. Slowly stars began to shine forth. There were not too many as the moon, in its fullness, crept from behind Wy' east and filled the night sky with light. The silvery light of the moon cast long shadows over the surrounding valleys. As the night sky danced, I was agog. I played my shakuhachi drawing inspiration from such beauty. To my right stood the solemn and immovable Wy' east and to my left were the distant lights of Portland, Or. I cannot think of a greater dichotomy than the one between the unchanging and nearly ever present Wy' east and the always changing and constantly moving city of Portland. The dance continued until roughly 4:30 am when a deep red hue appeared in the eastern sky.
This deep red hue was accompanied by the first bird songs of the day. At first a loud screeching, and then a single song that was soon answered and answered again. Soon the mountain began to sing. Birds from many directions added their voices to the choir. Each one welcoming the day in its own particular tune. The deep red hue gave way to at first a pale orange and then a light pink. The surrounding peaks, including Wy' east, rose above the mist surrounding their bases making each one seem like a grand ship of the earth sailing through the sky. The sun climbed steadily behind Wy' east throwing a massive shadow as far as I could see. Then in one brilliant burst the sun climbed over the top of the peak and bathed the world in its light.
As I was the only person within at least half a mile, I quickly disrobed and enjoyed the new sunlight. I lay upon a rock like a lizard basking in the warmth of another day. Fortunately for me the nearest hikers made enough noise in getting to the peak that I was able to be dressed and ready to greet them. It is a shame that few people will have the experience I had. Most people who pass through that way look at the pretty views and then move on. I am grateful I was allowed to experience this magnificent sunrise.
Wanderartist Wanderartist
31-35, M
1 Response Jul 25, 2010

felt like i was there. very nice description! what is the "shakuhachi?" look forward to reading more of your stories!