Wandering Thoughts

December 13, 2009

Mist

Filed under: Going Places — terence @ 4:54 pm
Tags: , ,

I must have woken in the grey. In a fog that loped in from the sea. To tiny rivulets of water traced upon my tent. I would have lain there for a while, and read, and eaten breakfast from a can. I might have wandered into the village.

I would have started walking. Around the East of the island, or to the bay on the north where icebergs parked like ships inside a harbour. I probably felt lonely, at some point – examining the broken relationship from all angles, again – although as I walked, that would have ebbed away.

Later in the day, still walking, I climbed one of the two hills, up towards the peak, where unanticipated, just shy of the top, the mist gave ground. It went from thick to nothing in a few meters. And I found myself above the cloud, in a powder blue sky. Half a kilometre away the other hill also struck out of the grey. Each peak an island, floating on a fairy sea that stretched to the curve of the earth. Beneath us somewhere the occasional husky howled and calving icebergs rumbled.

And as I hovered there, unable to find words, I promised myself I’d remember that day. And the impossible beauties of the Arctic. Though now, nearly 9 years later, my determination to remember is the main thing I remember. The view itself is faded, barely there, less tangible than the mist.

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