mountaintop

finally, one last step lifted him to the top of the mountain.  he lifted his eyes, and the scene took his breath away.

the whole world, it seemed, spanned before him.  he looked out to the east, where the mountain sank into a desert, beyond which was a glistening sea.  his eyes panned over the scene to the south, from whence he had come.  most of the path was shrouded in greenery: the seemingly tiny tops of trees, which stretched from the base of the mountain out to the distant horizon.  he followed the outline of the forest to a flatter land toward the west.  in the distance, he could just make out tiny squarish shapes silhouetted in the setting sun: his old village.  taking a deep breath, he fixed his gaze on the northern path ahead of him.  it followed a plain into a set of valleys, set deep in towering hills.

he sat down with his back to the sunset, and poured out the contents of his pack.  something smallish tumbled out and caught his gaze--and also his nose: a rough wooden box emitting a foul smell.  nose wrinkled, he picked up the box and immediately found the source of the stench.  a number of shards littered the box, the remains of a sand dollar collected by his cousin from the beach soon before his journey had begun.  after dumping out the rest of the box's contents, he put the shards back into the box, which itself had begun to reek of rotten sea life.  then he began to examine the rest of the box's contents.

a bit of gold shined from the pile.  he picked up a gold necklace in the shape of the sun.  the way it caught the light of the campfire gave it a smooth, almost fluid look, as though it were the purest substance in the world.  his father's engraved initials crowned the sun and made it glitter faintly.  he gently laid it out on top of his pack.  as he did so, he noticed the bright colors of a rock with a painted-on face.  it was smooth, and though it was not very big, it was weighty.  an inside joke from a much earlier hiking trip with some of his friends.  next to the rock was a dried daisy chain.  rueful pangs hit him as he recalled its giver, several years prior.  but then he noticed the last item from the box: a crumpled piece of paper.  he picked it up and flattened it out.  written on it was a series of messages from those who had supported his journey.  he glossed over the words of encouragement and fortitude.  sighing, he gathered the box of sand dollar shards and the daisy chain and threw them into the fire.  he placed the rock beside the fire pit.  then he lay down, and soon dropped off to sleep, the paper still in his hand.

awakening with the sunrise, he began to gather his things and stamp out the few remaining embers of his fire. the paper tucked securely into his jacket pocket and the golden sun fastened around his neck,  he looked out at the cloudy horizon once more.  adopting an optimistic smile, he pulled on his pack and set out on the path ahead of him.  this was just the beginning.