My steps were slow as I began the climb from the low lands where the olive trees spread their twisted branches where the earth was red and cracked beneath the sun where small villages lay close to their wells and the people watched the road with quiet eyes They gave me water cool from the depths of the earth they offered bread rough and warm baked upon flat stones hot beneath the sun they nodded in greeting but spoke little and their faces were marked by the wind and the years

The land grew wilder with each mile The trees gave way to scrub the scrub to rock the rock to sheer faces of stone that caught the light and glared white beneath the noonday sun The sky above was endless and blue and the eagles circled high upon the wind their cries sharp and lonely in the stillness I followed paths worn into the mountain by the feet of those who had come before narrow tracks that clung to the slope that rose and fell with the shape of the land that led always higher toward the heart of the mountains

I camped where I could upon ledges where the view opened wide upon valleys green with almond and fig where streams ran clear and cold from the snow above where the night fell swift and filled with stars The firelight flickered upon the stone upon my hands upon the water that ran beside my resting place I listened to the voice of the heights the wind that sang among the rocks the soft rush of water the silence that lay over the land like a great hand

The days passed and I climbed higher The air grew thin and sharp and each breath filled my chest with the taste of stone and sky The sun burned upon the rock and the shadows were deep and cool The path led me past great faces of stone carved by the wind into shapes that seemed almost to live shapes that watched as I passed that seemed to remember all those who had come before The light changed with the hour gold at dawn white and fierce at noon soft and red as the day faded into night

One afternoon the clouds gathered swift upon the peaks and the storm broke upon the mountains with a fury that shook the earth The wind howled among the crags the rain lashed the rock the lightning split the sky and the thunder rolled like the voice of the gods I found shelter beneath a great overhang of stone and watched as the storm raged the water pouring down the face of the cliff the wind tearing at the scrub and grass the light and dark of the world caught in the battle of sky and earth When at last the storm passed the world lay washed and clean the air sharp with rain and the rock shining wet beneath the retreating cloud

I met a shepherd upon the path his face lined by sun and wind his eyes bright and kind beneath his hood His flock grazed upon the sparse grass between the stones and he spoke to me of the mountain of the streams that gave life to the land of the storms that came sudden and fierce of the eagles that nested high upon the cliffs He shared with me his bread and his cheese and his water and we sat together as the sun fell behind the peaks and the shadows grew long upon the land

That night as I lay beside my small fire I looked up at the sky filled with stars so many and so bright that it seemed the heavens burned with a thousand lights The wind moved soft among the stones and the earth beneath me felt old and strong and full of memory I slept at last with the song of the mountains in my ears and the peace of the heights in my heart

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