a story about mesmerizing terrain
Where am I? Pitch black all around. In the distance a tiny source of harsh light, slowly moving closer. As the light approaches a jaring sound appears. The harsh light slowly fades into a soft color. Edges and structures of huge stone formations start to appear on the horizon. I can barely see them. Am I alive again?
I look down onto the palm of my hands: I think I am. The air feels different. It's full of hope. I take in a deep breath, hold on to it for a moment and then breath out the heavy weight lingering around my chest. My burdens. I realize I am high up in the mountains. My knees are weak. Am I dreaming?
I am surrounded by high peaks reaching into unimaginable heights. I am surrounded by mesmerizing structures carved deep into the landscape. An interplay between soft grass and rugged stones. Me. In the middle. I feel small again. Insiginificat.
I am a spectator. And that's all I ever wanted to be. Especially right now. In this moment. High up in the mountains.
In The French Pyrénées.