The Gift

I awake to the sound of the river slowly flowing through the canyon below. The current carries with it life. Life flowing, reaching for a distant ocean. I roll over and pull the mummy bag over my head. Hoping for a moments more sleep. My hope fades as my climbing partners awake and slowly, methodically, begin the morning rituals that mark the beginning of another day spent pulling on stone. My body aches and my muscles burn. Slowly I sit up. The crisp morning air saturates my lungs as I yawn. The morning sun isn't yet high enough to lend me its heat. I smile at the new day. I embrace its freshness and acknowledge its gift. I am alive. I have been given another day. A gift that will only last a day, but a day that will live eternally in my soul.

As we all rise and prepare our gear, I find myself noticing the little things. The sound of the logs popping on the fire. The swallows swishing and darting about. The clanging of gear. The subtle crunch of the morning frost as it gives way under my steps. Not much is said. We know what we need to do. We have been here before. Each person seems to operate in unison. Little need for words. While one stokes the fire and starts coffee, another gets water, while yet another begins the task of sorting gear. We are all smiling.....enjoying the moments we have. Unsure of how long each of us may have. No one verbalizes that thought but as climbers we know that any day could be our last. We do not have a morbid fascination with life or death. We are all just keenly aware of the existence of both. We know that without one, we cannot experience the other. We are grateful for the gift of life. We intend to use it in a way that gives us the utmost sense of satisfaction.

In what feels like total peace we eat our breakfast and sit in wonder at the world around us. Still not a word has been uttered. We are where we belong. We are what we are and what we choose to be. We are the quintessential team. We communicate without words. We shoulder our packs and head down the trail. As we pass each tower, our gaze is pulled upwards in what feels like reverse gravity. We can't help but look up, our eyes strain as we methodically look for a line up a seemingly blank face. Our boots trod along and our pace slowly increases. Driven by desire we march on until finally we reach the base of the climb. We drop our packs and our eyes meet. All of us....and through the sweat and panting...there are only smiles. No need for words. We are what we are.