Walking in Heaven

One of the first things that strikes you is the silence. No birds singing just a quiet wind jumping over the low plant life.

The steps that form your path, which tell you that you shouldn't even dream of thinking you're the first here, are all large stones and easily weigh 100 lbs a piece. It's a little humbling when "only walking" to think of who might have assembled this stairway to heaven.

The upside is the temperature. As yours goes up though exertion the outside temperature drops. You're out of the humid closeness of the jungle below and into fresh air, free from the clutch and tug of the heat.

You're enveloped and shrouded in cloud and it's moving not static. There's a perpetual cloud machine on one side and it flows over you. No doubt you smell of cloud from the immersion. You'd drown if not for the lightness of it.

As you ascend there is no bearing or landmarks for you, and little indication of progress other than yet another step. The cloud has it's way with your senses, obscuring even the nearby man-made noises. It's trance-like and etherial.

Hiking cloud-shrouded mountains is a lot like life in general. You can't see where you are going, there are few guideposts and it's very exerting. While you may be one of many, the clouds mean you can't see one another so you're effectively alone on the trail. You are rewarded with small breaks and stunning vistas - occasionally- and these are neither predictable nor frequent. The reward is in the continued progress, recognizing it's not the destination but how you move through the journey that counts.

You're alone on this path and that's the way it's supposed to be it seems. And that's all right.