The Mountain song

The Mountain song. Something not distinct in sound, but nevertheless present. It surrounds us now, the wind whistling through the valley, the insects in my ears, the rustling of the tall grass on the mountain slopes. I've never felt so free. I have nowhere to be, no appointments to catch, or engagements to honor. The sun is beginning to set over the mountains to the west, turning them a royal purple color that makes my soul sing. Flashes of light erupt sporadically along the mountainside as the sun catches bits of reflective rock. It is the most beautiful thing i've ever seen, and I am its only witness. My dog Miles stands beside me, some might think he is oblivious to the beauty that surrounds us, but I think not. His demeanor has changed, his breathing has relaxed, and he gazes upon the valley with a look of such significance that I would bet my life that he is just as touched as I. As the sun sets further, the mountains turn from royal purple to a deep ocean blue. The lake that stretches along the valley floor no longer reflects the peaks surrounding it. The mountain song changes, no longer light and uplifting, it becomes low and mournful. It sings to the depths of my sorrow, awakening it, reveling in it, and yet somehow comforting it as well. The insects no longer hum busily, now their tone becomes lazy. The wind's voice is a lonesome howl starting at the far end of the valley, rising to a musical crescendo as it reaches my ears. My purpose here is unknown, but I sense that I must stay and let the mountains guide my soul. As the stars begin to emerge Miles trots away from me, down the slope towards a solitary grove of trees. I follow him. As we enter the trees I am rejuvenated. I walk slowly through the grove relishing the serenity and peace of the moment. I am secluded, and yet i've never felt in better company. We reach a clearing and Miles heads for a tree on the perimeter, with large overhanging foliage. I follow him. I lie down next to him and gaze up through the trees to the sky, and the stars that are slowly beginning to appear. Like tiny fires in a massive field viewed from on high, they flash and twinkle with a mischievous energy, teasing me. As if they all know the punchline to a funny joke, and are waiting for me to get it. I close my eyes and listen. I can hear the trees creaking as they sway in the wind, and Miles breathing slow measured breaths beside me. Somewhere above me in the trees an Owl hoots, and then in a rush of feathers and twigs falling, takes off to begin his hunt. And the mountain song, a product of everything, is now, even more powerful. The more I listen the more I hear. I feel myself begin to drift into slumber, and I relish it.
I awake to tumultuous noise. Miles is standing next to me, and there is panic in his eyes. The sky erupts with a flash of lightning, a millisecond later the air around us booms with the sonic shock of thunder. I can hear what sounds like a speeding car on a wet road approaching up the valley. It takes me a moment to realize that it's the rain. I scramble to my feet and glance around uncertainly. I'm groggy and sluggish. Miles begins to whimper beside me. I recognize the need to find shelter, a cave, or a big rock, anything but the tall trees that surround us. Another bolt of lightening scythes down, and the resulting thunder jars me into action. I pick up Miles and begin to run, zigzagging slightly for traction on what is quickly becoming a treacherously slippery slope. I emerge from the grove of trees to find myself in a foreign landscape. Gone is the peace and serenity of yesterday, the Mountain song has become powerful and angry. The trees behind me whip back and forth as if each is a slave driver's whip egging on the storm. The rain is a deluge, soaking me and beating at the mountain side. The valley is lost to my view, instead all I can see through my slitted eyes is a wall of rain. I am small and insignificant. I dash down the slope, looking for anywhere to hide. Miles is barking in my arms now, adding to the noise and confusion. Another flash of lightening, and boom of thunder, simultaneous. I fall to my knees, a feeling of hopelessness overwhelming me. I curl my body around Miles and hug him close. He seems to understand now that i've given up, and he relaxes, breathing deeply. I bury my head in his fur, and the rain mingles with my tears.
The sound of birdsong, it draws me out of my dream. It was a peaceful dream. I was floating through a landscape of clouds, overwhelmed by their beauty, the mountains of the sky. As my consciousness slowly returns to reality, I notice the warmth of the sun on my face. It's light diffuses over my eyelids. I open my eyes a crack and quickly close them again, the blinding glare too much for my sleepy brain to handle. I wonder what type of bird sings like that, five soft notes of the same pitch followed by a pause, it is remarkably soothing. As my senses return to me, I feel a soft breeze gently kissing my face. Miles is snoring steadily in my arms, oblivious. I marvel at the changeability of the mountains, the contrast between the serenity of yesterday and the fearsome power of the nighttime storm, and finally the return to peace and serenity this morning. The mountains are a microcosm of life itself. Miraculously beautiful because of their unpredictability and splendor, because of the Mountain song.