the crossing

We had been walking for hours. An electricity filled the air. My wife saw the flash first. Startled, she grabbed my arm and squeezed. I looked into the sky, just above Burney Mountain as the explosion occurred. Fiery boulders scattered in all directions. Although we were more than five miles away from the blast, we could feel the wave of heat as it screamed past us. The ground beneath our feet trembled and rolled. Our instinct said run but our curiosity said investigate. Without a word between us, we wound our way through the forest toward the blast, making sure to stay on the trail, our only sure means of retreat. The closer we drew to the base of the mountain, the more dense and dark the air became. There was an underlying smell of soot and ashes. We slowed to a snail's pace, covering our noses with our hands, planning each step, surveying the land, listening. The bridge was now the only thing between us and the trail to the top of the mountain. The small stream which normally flowed beneath the bridge was now only a steaming, bubbling trickle of water. This was decision time. Step onto this bridge and there was no turning back. Crouching low, hanging tight to one another we hesitated, but only for a moment. One deep breath, one first cautious step and the die was cast. The earth trembled. The bridge shook. The air crackled. Hair on my arms and neck stood on end. We were almost to the other side. I feared the worst. Whose decision was this anyway, to make the crossing......

the coming light

It was an unusually warm spring day. Almost smothering. The trail traced a serpentine path deep into the forest. The air was devoid of sound. No birds singing. No breeze through the trees. No rustle of leaves. Not a woodland creature in sight. No squirrels scurrying about. No chipmunks. Or lizards. Or beetles. It was so quiet. The only sounds were the accentuated crunch of my footfall and the wavering rhythm of my breathing. It seemed strange to be on this trail alone. This trail which on any other day is crowded with runners. And bikers. And dog-walkers. I slowed my pace. Almost tiptoeing. Trying not to make a sound. Searching for a sound. Wanting to hear something. Wanting to see another person on this trail. The forest seemed heavy. Dark. Menacing. The further into these woods I walked the more ominous were my surroundings. I considered turning back but the halfway point loomed only minutes away. And then... the hot, smothering air began to chill. The wind took my breath away. I shielded my eyes from the debris swirling about. I could see something ahead. A mist. Gaining ground on me. I could see the coming light....