Sunset Hike
Cover art by Ruta Jamenis
As I stood at the edge, there was nothing but one thought that ran through my mind. I hope I didn’t miss it.
Breathing heavily from the brisk uphill walk, I frisked my backpack for water. Eyes intent on the vista before me. Nestled so deep was this bottle, that I irritatingly took the bag off my back, bent over and rummaged through the contents. My hand finally got a clasp and jerked it out. Bent over my knee, I took a long swig. And then another. As I was going for the third, something happened.
The sky started to change its color. An orange glow with streaks of pink decorated the mountain peaks before me. The sun was retiring for the day. I corked the bottle and threw it aside. I plunged at my bag and pulled my camera out. This is what I was here for and if I missed this, I might as well tip over and jump. If only I have enough time to set the correct ISO, aperture and shutter speed, I might just get the perfect shot!
The cool summer evening breeze did little to wipe the sweat off my brow. All I did was nervously tap on my camera. I focused at the setting sun between the peaks and clicked one picture after another. I took a few moments to review what I had clicked. They were pretty good. Everything was in favor. The position of the sun, the clear skies, the light. I was getting into a comfortable position and then…
It was gone.
I peered out of the camera lens. Was it really? Maybe I subconsciously shifted my position in a different direction. I looked all around. Tired from a hard day’s work, the sun had neatly tucked itself behind the mountains.
The wind changed its course. The cool summer breeze changed into a cold gust. A sudden silence fell upon the mountain. A cold started to grip my body. The warm, inviting peak suddenly seemed so cold and distant. I felt out of place. It was time to head back. I looked down to the valley through which I had ascended. I couldn’t recognize it. Is this the way I came up?
I felt lost.
The hike back to my car was much shorter than the hike up. Or maybe it just felt that way. Oddly, the anxiety and struggle of reaching to the top was not replaced by calm and satisfaction on the way down. Instead I was left with a weird emptiness and a sudden lack of purpose. That night, as I beamed through the comments, likes and reactions of my pictorial creations, I looked at my own pictures with a sense of disillusionment. Did I really see this sunset? Was it truly as gorgeous as my camera claims it was? Or were the filters making reality rosier than it was? My tired back, hurting knees and ankles reminded me of my journey but why couldn’t I remember most of the hike? As I waited for answers and epiphanies, I was jolted by a ringing sound.
3:00 PM my alarm clock read. Time for the sunset hike.
My sleep is usually a blimp in the space of time. Dreams are a rare event. For a few minutes, I didn’t know how to react. I just lay there. Blank and vacant. Motionless.
Did I just wake up from a dream? Or am I dreaming now?
As I drove to the base of the mountain, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something to glean from that dream. The experience had felt so real that I just couldn’t shrug it off.
I felt like myself, but different.
I reached the base of the mountain. The weather was pleasant. The surroundings were calm. The sun was out. A few parked cars. A few others coming in. I parked my car and started gathering my belongings. A light jacket, some snacks, a water bottle.
As I picked the last item, my camera, I stopped short. I held it in my hands for a few minutes, just looking at it. I am not sure what came over me in that moment. I put it back in its place and made my way to the woods.
The first thirty minutes of the hike seemed to go by in a blink. I made my way through rocks and trees of green, red and yellow leaves. It wasn’t unlike any other hikes that I had taken but the path seemed to promise more remarkable sights ahead.
After what seemed like half an hour, the incline became visibly steeper. The woods were no longer as dense. The rocks assumed a greater role in the expanse, asserting themselves with their looming size and jagged shapes. The path started circling the mountain. I could sense that I was going to come out of the dense woods soon.
And very soon…I did.
The first glimpse of the view was just breathtaking. The wide expanse of the plains beneath me. A river lazily snaking its way through the woods. The soft evening sunlight marinating the land with its warm glow. No man made structures for as far as I could see. Pure, unadulterated nature.
I stood at the spot for a few minutes just marveling at what an hour’s walk had gifted me. The triumph of the moment seemed completely lost on my fellow hikers who simply rushed passed me without as much as acknowledging what lay before them. Ironically, their sense of rush reminded me that there was after all a purpose to this journey. I started walking forward.
The climb ahead continued to be rewarding. My leisure pace meant that I was all alone in this neck of the woods and hence, I enjoyed the sights in complete serenity.
But that changed soon.
I was back in the woods now and the mood here was bustling. Filled with chatter, congregations of several hikers walked in and out of a path that lead to a water body. I couldn’t see what the fuss was about but certainly there was something that wasn’t meant to be missed.
I joined my fellows in their pursuit and when I reached the shore, I saw a fall of water come through a jagged cliff into a tiny pond. Absolutely, gorgeous! Now all I needed was a quiet spot. I made my way to a secluded rock, took a seat with my feet dipped in the cool water.
I watched how like a well laid out factory conveyor, hikers came in and out of the spot, clicked pictures, made chit chat and hurried on towards the summit. Some could be bothered by a quick dip in the pond, while most didn’t deem the experience worthy of living beyond their camera lenses. I couldn’t deny that had I chosen to skip my afternoon nap, I wouldn’t have been any different from them.
Unable to live in the moment. Focused on distant dreams. Intent on big rewards. Unaware of the small triumphs.
Something told me that reaching the summit was no longer necessary. In this very moment, the hike had served its purpose. But I had to go on. I can’t really tell how long or arduous the rest of the hike was but eventually the dense forest gave way to a small plain. I could see a glimpse of the jagged rock peering out of the summit. This was it.
As I reached the edge, I chose a quiet spot to sit. And just as I sat down, the sun began its final descent for the day. There was nothing more for me to do. So I just sat and stared. Devoid of any thought. All there was was me and this moment.
My eyes blinked. And as they opened, the moment had passed.
