A short story treatment, halfway between diary and fantasy, stories and flow of thoughts, self-healing, which I believe others do not say anything.
MOUNTAINS IN
The expected duration of the excursion is four hours with a vertical drop of 640 meters, but the carers who have tried it recently, led the distance in five hours and the difference at 900 meters, however, little more than a walk.
Meeting at 6.20 and 6.30 for the scheduled departure, one of the guides arrives late and leaves at 7.00.
weather forecast, very bad until last night before departure have improved and maybe even rain.
occupies one of its seats in the car leading the column.
The driver relies on the navigation system and wrong way twice.
ask directions to a baker who proves more reliable than the tomtom, so we arrived rather late to the location provided as a starting point for the climb.
Parked the car, people change, preparing equipment, etc.. In short we begin to walk to almost 8.30 am.
I do not make out more than two hours at least ten years and I am not able to reach the top.
When I was hiking in the mountains taught me that you do not ever walk with his hands in his pockets, because even the most experienced can happen to slip, but if you keep your hands in your pocket, you go straight to the face, and, rightly, we face the massacres. One of the attendants has this bad habit and at one point, in fact, slips, but he is fine and does not fall by a miracle, at least he learned not to give bad example.
The morning is cool and sunny weather ideal for walking, also a beautiful landscape.
The slowness with which the group salt, however, is infuriating, given that I'm not sure of my strength, I adjusted.
are still at the head of the company and pleasant conversation with a man and a woman, perhaps the oldest of the row.
guides decisions for a "drink", thus leaving the main road and climb to a small church built on a summit.
The building is simple, a place of meditation.
attached to the wall is a kind of poem without title, only at bottom of page there is shown the words "Manuscript of 1692 found in Baltimore the ancient church of San Paolo. "
Here is a fragment.
Be yourself.
Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
because
even in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is perennial as the grass.
[...] be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
not less than the trees and the stars, and you
full
right to exist.
[...] And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace with your spirit.
Despite your delusions,
hardships and broken dreams,
it is still
a beautiful world.
Be careful.
Strive to be happy.
few minutes to rest and go down to take the path that we had left.
resumes the climb and back muscles to warm up.
Without realizing gain ground and distance all.
I took my natural rhythm, the same as when I was twenty.
The breath and your legs go together, all around me are familiar despite never been here.
not feel fatigue, I'm just, like walking into myself.
Even the mountains are in me, it all makes sense, everything is perfect and there is no time, so the distance.
I could walk forever, without stopping, eat, drink, sleep, anything, just walk, walk for ever and forget everything.
A whistle reminds me, is the guide that said to be in a group.
I remember that as long as you remain in view all goes well, however, slow down and waiting for them.
The thing is repeated a few times without me realizing it, but now are at the top.
Breath.
Belle rocks that pierce the sky in prayer to es'alzano lawn, beautiful air that enters the lungs through the eyes, ears, hands, hair, beautiful verses of raptors that pierce the sky the world, beautiful valleys spot of light, distant, where I would never go back, the thought of her beauty in this same instant, hundreds of miles away, on another peak, is here with me.
His fingers on the rock that pushes the foot, the thrill of the vacuum.
But it is not my hand holding the rope, it will never be mine.
The group joins me gasping and bitter shatters lawns merge with those of alpine herbs.
A few hundred meters, we arrive at the shelter for lunch.
lot to eat, only drink coffee in the shelter and purchase a bottle of water at a price with the addition of maleducatissime disgraceful manners of the manager who immediately put in place, the guy understands to catch me at the wrong time and retires with his head down.
exchange a few words with a guy in the group about the marmots that emerge all around, I'm already pretty fat, and ready for the long winter hibernation.
The descent involved crossing a scree slope and then continue along the course of a river valley, but up to three days of rain devastated the way and the locals strongly discourages the descent from the street.
The gravel is lined through and instead, with a small ring in which one of the guides are wrong path so well marked that you would see a plane come down the same road came.
The return is very little interest, moreover the sky is overcast covering the beautiful peaks all around.
A woman tries in vain to get involved in a political discussion, then gives up and tries again with a guy behind me.
To suddenly takes me a boy of few words but kind and honest, you see that you love mountains, unlike others who go there as they could go to a course in Latin America.
The end of the path arrives quickly.
We find ourselves having made a journey of six hours and twenty with a drop of almost 1250 meters.
Some, tired, salute and return to their homes, others agree to a pizza in the company.
boots undone, the rest just sitting on the cement parking lot, after the air peaks, it seems the heavy lid of a world on the other hand, heavy as my heart at the thought of love lost.
Mountains in by Stefano Berardi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution
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