by Christopher Mitchell
The sky over Devil’s Courthouse is leaden. The snow is a few hours off and the wind is whipping. I am not sure why I did this hike. I just had to get away for awhile. And I knew my message was here. I was at loose ends and really did not have a clue why.
“The view from up here is amazing.” I thought as I finished my sandwich. As I pulled on my pack, I look over the cliff. A hawk is hovering a hundred feet below my perch. The slow pulse of his wings and ease of his gliding impress me. What little sun there is shines off his dark brown feathers as he slowly rises to my level.
As the bird rises, a voice comes from somewhere. “The snow is temporary. The sun is real. Come and join.” I wonder where it had come from. Every time I have come to the Courthouse, I always wonder if it is my time to be judged. Lord knows, I have sinned much. Would this be the day of reckoning? I step closer to the edge of the precipice. And I notice that I now have feathers.
I can join my brothers in the sky.