“Stay away from the edge!”

 

Chris starts up the mountain

This all happened yesterday.  Christopher and I climbed a mountain in the afternoon.  (OK, a “Michigan Mountain”…what people in other states might call a “tall hill” or a “foothill”.  We in Michigan live in such flat country that any tall hill is deemed a mountain.)

Do any of you feel like yesterday is a past life?  A memory of something long ago?  Something so long ago that sometimes you can barely recall?

Alas.  That’s how I often feel.  The moment so often seems the only reality, the only truth.  Yesterday feels like a hundred years ago, a dim past life, a dream.

In yesterday’s dream, Christopher and I climbed a mountain.

Shadow on rock

A mountain we climbed many times during his childhood.  This mountain is filled with childhood memories for him.  He pointed out crevices in rocks where he huddled with childhood friends.  We spoke of those long-ago days when we trekked up the slope of Baldy, making our way up through the trees onto the granite outcrops.

Oh how long ago that was.  I do remember worrying that the children would careen to their death down the rock slopes.  I remember fussing, “Stay away from the edge!”  Now this very same son skis down Californian mountain slopes which make this mountain look like a lump of putty. He backpacks up mountains which make this mountain look like a  beginner hill.  I am probably happy not to know about the mountains he has climbed.   This one is challenging enough.

Tiny purple harebell

I was sweating and out of breath ten minutes into our climb. 

“So, Chris!” I called up ahead, panting, “Are you–like–breathing heavy?  At all?”

“I’m breathing,” he said.

Mama narrowed her eyes at his back and panted some more. 

But soon we crested in a more open rocky face.  Ahhh….wind.  Ahhhh….breeze.  Hi there vultures!  Will you come closer for a photo shoot?  Please?  No?  C’mon, show us your fabulous wings.  Let us pretend we can drift on the currents, suspended above this beautiful land!

Claw of a tree branch

Christopher liked the view.  He tried to explain that this Michigan view actually seemed impressive because the surrounding land is so flat. 

Chris surveys the vista

Once you reach the top of the mountain, you can view incredible vistas in 360 degree view.  To the north and west stretches the lake.  Beautiful blue Lake Superior with the Huron and Keweenaw Bays and beyond.  The Huron Mountains stretch out below.

We climbed higher.  I was glad that Chris brought bottles of water.  We sipped thirstily.  The sun beat down.  We trekked toward the very top.

Looking up at a burned tree stump on the top of the mountain

And then we found–

And then we found–

Never mind.

I’m not going to tell you until tomorrow what we found on the top of the mountain.  It’s a post onto itself.  You may have three guesses.  That’s all.  Three guesses.

Top of the mountain, overlooking the Huron Islands

Speaking of tomorrow–which, as we all know is a future life–further than the top of any mountain–we have to be at the airport by 5:30 a.m.  Christopher’s plane is winging back toward San Diego.  We have to arise by 4 a.m. (oh my, that’s  about eight hours away!) and drive up to the Hancock airport.

After he leaves, I aim to settle down in a coffee shop with a hazelnut skim milk latte and my laptop, Ms. Ellie.  There are also lots of other errands to do.  Recycling.  Buying shorts for yoga.  Shopping at the co-op.  You know.  The usual things you do when you visit the Big City. 

It has been a wonderful almost-ten day visit with our son.  What a gift–to spend these days with him.  And mama got to climb a mountain with her son!  A blessing, indeed.