A Mountain Morning

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Hey everyone. This is my story about a man living in the mountains going to see the sunrise.

I was awakened by the call of a falcon. My eyes fluttered to life as I sat up in bed, the pale light of early morning drifting in through the log cabin's windows. I smiled as I realized morning had arrived.

The birds sang as I stepped outside with my knapsack slung from my shoulder. I took in a deep breath. The mountain's cool, fresh air rushed through my nose and into my lungs, invigorating my old body.

It was still early, the sun not yet risen. The temperature was no more than fifteen degrees and there was a faint breeze blowing. I wore a thick, flannel shirt and long underwear beneath my pants to keep warm. It didn't completely keep back the cold, but I welcomed the coolness of a mountain morning.

I walked forward and felt the dew tipped grass fail beneath my weight, leaving faint footprints behind. I'd walked this way every morning for the past thirty years, and each day I made slight variations so I wouldn't forge a permanent path.

I continued on into the trees, brushing lightly past the shrubbery. Most of the animals were still asleep, but a few were scurrying around. A falcon flew off a branch as I passed under it. Ahead I saw a jackrabbit run into its burrow as I drew close. Far off I saw a moose drinking from a small pond. It looked at me for a moment, watching as if I'd do something to hurt it.

The animals' reactions to my presence reminded me how impossible it was for we humans, no matter how much we wanted it, to become one with nature. We, the dominant beings of earth, could explore the wonders of science and technology but we couldn't live in harmony with the beautiful world around us. I prided myself in the fact that I lived as naturally as possible, but I still couldn't walk through the trees without being feared by all the animals. I forced myself to ignore it and continue on.

I stepped into a clearing. The grass and trees became less and less common and were eventually replaced by rock.

Gravel crunched beneath my boots as I walked up to a wall of stone. I gazed heavenward and saw the zenith forty feet above me. Getting a good handhold, I pulled myself up and began climbing. My rough hands knew where to go by heart, my feet falling in behind them. I could have closed my eyes and not had any trouble, but then I wouldn't be able to see the world around me.

On a ledge to my right, I saw the falcon from earlier standing on the edge of its nest. Little chicks peaked out their heads and tweeted for food. Their mother immediately bent over them and heeded their call. I smiled and moved on.

I reached the top not much later. I found my usual boulder near the edge and sat on it. Behind me the trees continued deeper into the mountain, and in front of me, to the East, was the reason I came every morning. From this vantage point I could see for miles. It was like a sea of trees before me, and beyond that was a tall, blue mountain barely holding back the sun's rays. It would begin soon.

I took the knapsack off my shoulder and opened it. Inside was my thermos filled with steaming hot coffee. I took off the cap and carefully filled it to the brim. I put it to my lips just as the sunrise began.

The sun peeked over the tip of the mountain, its rays leaking over the edges. Shades of red and yellow shone into the clouds and onto the trees, intermixing as the sun rose higher and higher. The morning dew that rested upon all the plant life glistened magically as the sun's rays shone.

As the sun crested above the mountain, a small bird alighted quietly beside me with a worm in its mouth. I looked over at it, slightly surprised. I smiled happily and offered it my finger.

The bird swallowed its food, looked at me curiously, and then hopped onto it. I lifted the bird up in front of me and laughed happily. Maybe we humans have a chance yet.
Last edited by mikedb1492 on Sun Mar 16, 2008 7:37 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Trying to get to heaven without Jesus is like climbing to the summit of Mount Everest naked. You die before it happens.




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This is a beautiful story.
Keep it up :)
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Really good! Keep writing!!

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mikedb1492 wrote:I stepped out of my log cabin with my knapsack slung from my shoulder. I took in a deep breath. The mountain's cool, fresh air rushed through my nose and into my lungs. The air here was the purest I'd ever experienced, the aroma of pine hinted within it.


Two things...I don't think the first sentence is much of a hook and I think you should change the wording of the last sentence. The second clause just kind of sticks up, it needs to wrapped into the sentence.



I continued on into the trees, brushing lightly past the shrubbery. Most of the animals were still asleep, but a few were scurrying around. A falcon flew off a branch as I passed under it. Ahead I saw a jackrabbit run into its burrow as I drew close. Far off I saw a moose drinking from a small pond. It looked up at me for a moment, watching me as if I'd do something to hurt it.


Take out "up" it flows better without it.

I reached the top not much later. I found my usual boulder near the edge and sat down on it.


I think you should take out "down".


I liked this story. It was light and had a good theme to it.
Maybe you should kiss someone nice or lick a rock, or both - Regina Spektor




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Thanks for the critiques. I fixed what you said, or at least I think I did. I'm not so sure if the new beginning is enough of an attention grabber, but I guess we'll see.
I'm happy you all like this. It took a long time and was hard to write since I was watching the movie 'House of Wax' as I wrote it. It was a decent movie, but not exactly the right kind of background you want as you write. Oh, well. It turned out fine either way.
Trying to get to heaven without Jesus is like climbing to the summit of Mount Everest naked. You die before it happens.




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Wonderful story. You created a beautiful picture with this. All the descriptive words you used wer wonderful.
Keep Writing!
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Huge, huge problem, I'm afraid: No conflict. Until there's a conflict this is nothing but nice descriptive writing.

"I gazed heavenward"

Nonononono.

"The bird swallowed its food, looked at me curiously, and then hopped onto it."

Awwww -- wait, I don't buy it. :/ Have you actually ever had a bird do that? If so then I revoke my disbelief, but it doesn't seem realistic to me.

The writing isn't half bad, but... nothing happens. If you're trying to make a point, illustrate it.

Best of luck! =)

Prokaryote



so many languages have fallen / off of the edge of the world / into the dragon's mouth.
— Lucille Clifton