AS THE CROW FLIES

It's a truism, a basic principle, a fundamental truth of scientific research, and should be of living in general, that if you are not shocked by what you’ve just discovered then you have not really discovered anything at all. You’ve only confirmed or debunked something you already believed or didn’t believe before. So unless your beliefs or disbeliefs are shaken to their foundation, it’s basically just back to the same old drawing-board. Apparently we all need to be born again and a again and again, reliving that original awakening into this bodily experience in a particular world that seeks to limit and define us, challenging us with a normalcy that could not possibly be so extraordinary it defies gravity and unlocks the mystery of its’ place in eternity.

We walked forever through the snow up onto the mountainside. A V-flight of geese disappeared into the distance as she smiled and we embraced. She pointed to a crow watching us from an ice-pond, broke away from me delightedly waving her arms and shooing the bird off into the brittle air. “Wherever he’s going”, she called back, “he’ll be the first to get there!” We laughed together.

“We can still do it”, I said, “we can still get to the top!” I started to climb without her. She ran after me. I waited and kissed her sweetly on the nose. “Aren’t you glad we came?” I asked. “Yes”, she said, “aren’t you?” “Yes, yes, I am.” The lemon sun cast long fir-green shadows across our trail as we climbed on together.

At the top there was a shrine with a rose laid softly at its’ feet. She took off her hat and shook out her hair. “See!” she pointed, “Mr. Crow has been and gone already!” I looked back down the mountain and in the forever distance a solitary bird hovered, swooped and evaporated into the bright blue stillness. We kneeled in the snow and made love together.