The Hill

It's Getting Dark, Too Dark to See...

It had always been there. In the distance.

We'd paid no attention to it. For years.

But one night, one cold and snowy night, suddenly the only important thing was to go out in the moonlight and climb the hill.

It wasn't that big. It wasn't that steep. It didn't require training. Or oxygen.

But we knew it required effort. And scarves.

So we fortified ourselves. With booze. With warm clothing. With heavy socks.

And we set out. Eight of us. Piled into a car.

And we walked. In silence. In the moonlight.

Up and up and up.

It was deceptive from the distance. From where we lived. From the warmth of houses, schools, offices.

But once we were on the way, we couldn't turn back.

Yes, there was a path. Twisting. Turning. Not as direct as we'd imagined.

And after a very long time we reached the top.

And we passed around the bottle. Looked down on the town. Saw the lights from the houses and the long darknesses of the fields.

None of us spoke for a long time. And then someone said "I guess this is what it looks like."

Yeah. I guess so.

Not at all what we imagined. But somehow beautiful. In its own way.