March 18, 2012

  • Pulling Me Forward

    I live in a little town tucked away in the mountains.  The valley itself was carved out millions of years ago as the ocean drained away.  The mountains are layered with sandstone and mudstone, with peaks of basalt burst from long-dead volcanoes.  A river fed by melting snowfall still winds through the valley, changing its shape constantly but slowly, leaving curves of scars, dried oxbow lakes.

    The wind as it tumbles down the mountains and pulls through the valley can knock you down.  Some days, going to class is a battle in itself.  The air as it hits your face causes the breath to tumble from your lungs, the clothing to tear from your skin.

    Adam holds my hand through it all.  He walks slowly enough for me to keep up, and pulls me back on my feet when I lose balance.  When the wind in my face forces my eyes closed, I hold onto him tighter.  He squeezes my hand in return.  Blindly I follow him, trusting him. 

    Where I cannot stand alone, he is there, pulling me forward.

     

    May

Comments (16)

Post a Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *