An Affair to Remember
from 
JoeUser Forums
JoeUser Forums
Since February, she has called to me daily. I have seen her in the moonlight, as the full light cascades off her bosom, and in the daylight as she basks in the desert summer sun. The plaintive cry of the coyotes in her presence is a siren's song, beckoning me nightly to come to her.
They call her Shadow Mountain, supposedly for the band of black that appears as an omnipresent shadow across her face, but I believe it is because of her mystery. She is smaller and less attractive to many than her sisters throughout the Sierra Nevadas, but, as anyone who knows her and her sisters well knows that she can be a lover to those who love her, and a beast to those who mock her.
I have kissed her before, but today is the day I will caress her, and bask in her presence.
I approach her and begin my journey. At first, the way is easy, but as the gently sloping desert gives way to the craggy upthrust of this ancient volcanic creation, I am forced to evaluate each step, to look this way and that for the most practical path. My feet move forward with caution, knowing the rattlesnakes and scorpions that call her home and lurk closer than a person ever knows.
I proceed gently, revelling in her beauty and majesty. Though I am tempted to look back, I know that it hinders the journey forward, and I resist. I press on, picking my way around each obstacle with care and concern for my body, which does not recover from injury as quickly as it once did. My hands take on the feel of a gentle lover, taking care not to disturb the surface that has been honed over eons of time.
I do not make the summit; in fact, I stop short of the ridge that precedes the summit. The way has been difficult, and I have learned much about the wrinkles that time has pressed upon this old lady, wisdom I will bring with me when she and I meet again.
As I contemplate an attempt on the summit, the old lady whispers "Not today. But some day. When you are older, and wiser".
I return home, exhilerated from this encounter. She and I will meet again.
They call her Shadow Mountain, supposedly for the band of black that appears as an omnipresent shadow across her face, but I believe it is because of her mystery. She is smaller and less attractive to many than her sisters throughout the Sierra Nevadas, but, as anyone who knows her and her sisters well knows that she can be a lover to those who love her, and a beast to those who mock her.
I have kissed her before, but today is the day I will caress her, and bask in her presence.
I approach her and begin my journey. At first, the way is easy, but as the gently sloping desert gives way to the craggy upthrust of this ancient volcanic creation, I am forced to evaluate each step, to look this way and that for the most practical path. My feet move forward with caution, knowing the rattlesnakes and scorpions that call her home and lurk closer than a person ever knows.
I proceed gently, revelling in her beauty and majesty. Though I am tempted to look back, I know that it hinders the journey forward, and I resist. I press on, picking my way around each obstacle with care and concern for my body, which does not recover from injury as quickly as it once did. My hands take on the feel of a gentle lover, taking care not to disturb the surface that has been honed over eons of time.
I do not make the summit; in fact, I stop short of the ridge that precedes the summit. The way has been difficult, and I have learned much about the wrinkles that time has pressed upon this old lady, wisdom I will bring with me when she and I meet again.
As I contemplate an attempt on the summit, the old lady whispers "Not today. But some day. When you are older, and wiser".
I return home, exhilerated from this encounter. She and I will meet again.
