Or: When Witch Meets Bard
Another Kind of Initiation –or: When Witch Meets Bard
45 minutes, he said ..... 45 minutes is all it’s going to take to climb his favorite forestry mountaintop, and I just had to view the entire countryside lying deeply (that should have alerted me, as well as the name, liberally translated: The Rock) below, with nothing but the wind and the birds above, one with the elements, as close to the clouds as the average non-mountaineer can come.
Since it was the first real life meeting of longstanding online friends I thought, how taxing can a nice Sunday stroll in the woods be? Okay, uphill, but only for 45 minutes. Comfortable shoes, no problem, I can do comfortable. We don’t have that many famous sites in this here country, and what there is, well, boondocks, is all I say. So Witch set out to meet Bard and get a taste of the wilderness.
The Bard was determined to show me a good time. We, he announced proudly as we began our journey by walking through pleasant meadows, are going to climb one of Germany’s most famous holy rocks. I was ecstatic. Until I got a first view of what lay ahead. Uh-huh.... 45 minutes he said, no problem, we go slow.... I looked up (and up) at that mountain suspiciously... 45 minutes? Looks more like 2 hours to me..... but okay, I can be a sport, I can climb if I have to....I THINK. After about one hour (45 minutes or so???) I huffed and puffed and begged for a break. Have some water. The Bard, as cheery as can be (and I was about ready to choke him for it too) offered a luke warm bottle. I let some of my breath catch up with me. Slowly. It’s the thinner air up here, that’s all! I'm not that old, right? I can get up a stinking hill if I have to, no matter how slippery the leaves are. Oh ye of big faith!
When we should have almost been at the top (45 minutes, remember?), the REAL climb began. Can you say sheer rock? With slick in between? Buried under leaves, of course, so you don’t know it until you start sliding. But not to worry, there’s a goat track around the wall, we’ll take that one (I’ll show you a goat, alright, goats have horns, and I’m gonna horn you right in the……). I have my pride. Not much sense, I grant you, but lots of pride. Soaked with sweat and exhausted, to call uncle half way was unthinkable! The weather was looking a little suspicious too, but who's checking?? If it starts raining, we could be back in no time.
Well, it took about 2 hours to drag me up there, and the last 50 meters (straight up) he DID have to drag me. But I was even climbing the tall (oh, you can do that, it's easy, see?? Easy? I'm wearing tight shorts for crying out loud) and nasty looking, surprisingly sturdy wire fence that separates the last (and - ahem - highest) cliff from the rest of the world. Never mind the endless deep ravines left and right from the tiny path... cuts that go straight to the core of the earth, just wide enough dispose of inconvenient rivals, as folk lore reports. Did I mention I'm TERRIFIED of heights?? Didn't think so.
I have come to believe that some fences are there for a reason. To keep out fool blondes, for example. I won’t explain how he sat on top of it to make it come down some, and how I lost my balance half way over and went toppling over, luckily landing on the ‘other’ side. I knew some great healing salves, and scar reducing ointments. It didn’t really bleed all that much anyway.
It was beautifully stunning though. Star moss all over the ground, old trees, a tiny path weaving in between towards the edge of previously mentioned cliff. Imagine a bonsai landscape. You've seen them, usually called the woodssomething. It’s a world in itself, the surroundings are cut off, as if a giant had taken a handful of life and put it elsewhere. Like an island rising out of the mists. The whole of the cliff was such an island looming out over the world. Billowy clouds moved overhead with incredible speed, like in those old time travel movies. Deep down over the edge is nothingness. Lots of it. I did mention that I’m terrified of heights, didn’t I? But of course, I had to peek. I didn’t slave all the way up here for the view and then chicken out. This was the first time I ever felt awed, and truly understood the power of nature. The whole scene was so surrealistic it was like being in a painting, or standing above oneself and watching the whole scene, inside and out. The feeling reminded me of my childhood dreams of flying within my spirit bird, and it was really tempting to believe this body could do it, and incredibly hard not to leap. We finally sat down on a little overhang (I tried hard not to think where the rock was attached to the mountain, or rather, where it was not - which was where we were), endless sky above, endless woods in each direction, endless - well, sort of endless - (don'tthinkaboutit) below, and had a feast of bread and cheese and salami, at peace with the universe. I took off the comfortable shoes and didn’t even notice the blisters.
Anyhow... remember the storm clouds? They were closing in. Fast. Bard goes, nawww, plenty of time, maybe tonight. Now, me, I SMELLS rain, right? I KNOWS things. I'm a WITCH! But I think, what the heck, it’s very warm, how bad could it get? Lemme tell you how bad. Bad! We were soon looking at an 8 or so on the Richter scale (Beaufort???). Within literally seconds, the world changed. The promise of rain, the smell of it, overwhelmed all senses. Nasty dark cloud gremlins (I swear they were alive, they had eyes and noses and gnarly grins...teeth! Did you see those TEETH on them things??) were racing the sky. The displayed force was terrifying but so utterly beautiful that I loose what little mind I had: Picture me out on a tiny overhanging cliff on top of the world, arms raised, storm whipping my hair into my face, blissfully screaming into the sky: "Well? Lets have it!"
Big mistake. Huge! There was this fraction of a second of absolute silence (you know, where you could hear the universe snicker: Seriously?? and had time to go ‘oooh shit’), no wind, no nothing, and then WAMMM! I almost got blown off that cliff. I kid you not, the Bard made a grab for my shirttails and reeled me back in. But it felt great! Absolutely terrific. The gust that hit me could have bruised my skin if it hadn’t went straight through as if I had been atomized. Lightning zapped down like crazy everywhere around us, our hair was standing on end, glowing, St. Elmo’s Fire. The Bard is looking at me with ‘that’ look on his face again (you know, the one he had when I tickled the old village baker out of the family bread recipe, or his grumpy neighbor into giving us berries on the way out, not sure whether to question my sanity or admire the candor), but all I can think is : WOW. And then the storm really hit. Showers don't have that much water where I come from. And talk about cold!! I slammed back into my body, so to speak, and raced for the next tree (pathetic, I know, but Gods, it was cold). Instead of the Bard grabbing what was to be grabbed and getting ready to get the lady the hell of the mountain, what did HE do? Strips and runs back out onto the edge of the cliff! I did not even have time to blink (I did, however, wonder where he would have kept the car keys...just in case he, uh...you know...what with the strong wind and all.....).
After about 10 minutes (and the water standing 2 inches high in my sneakers) I started hollering. Sure, lil Sorcy, yelling against a typhoon. Uh-huh!! But he eventually came back, took one look at me and innocently went, what, you sick? (No you moron, I'm not sick; I have girlie attacks and don't fancy dripping like a wet cat 2 hours away from the car when the drippings are threatening to freeze on my nose, with flashes going down like comet showers and ravines to climb in between the raging rivulets of the storm, mascara in my eyes .... get the idea?) It DID take only 45 minutes to get down though. Wouldn’t you know there is another path with nice steps hewn in all the way down?? (or - gasp – up, but don't rub it in, okay?) But you know, by the time we were on even ground skipping back through the meadows the sun came back out, and we took one look at each other and collapsed in a heap of laughter. We traipsed back to the house in silent contentment.
When I passed a mirror later I did a double take. I have never looked so beautiful before, so radiant. Skin soft and clean with sweet rain, hair tousled by giant hands, eyes bright as stars. After some time and a hot leisurely bath, a towel wrapped around my head, I took up the keyboard to share yet another piece of my crazy life with my online family. I wanted to write this while it was still fresh, afraid it would fade. It never did. Each time I close my eyes, I remember the feeling of the rain on my skin and in my hair, the taste of it as it ran down my face onto my lips, the smell of electricity in the air. I can see myself through larger eyes, high on that mountain top, arms lifted and heart open, Goddess personified. Momma did not take me gently, but I am not sorry. I was accepted as I live, unconditionally and intensely. I am grateful to know that She thought me acceptable to walk with Her. I also know that I will keep that link for as long as I live and carry it beyond. I guess for a thick skull like mine it took more than nice robes, expensive incense, and a tinkling bell….
- Granny must have sat on her cloud and laughed her heart out -
The Bard just read this, and pouts. Well, he sez, if you put it THAT way, you make me look like an idiot (grumblegrumble). Methinks, there's not one of you who would not have liked to puff up that rock WITH us and be just as nuts. But, he has dinner ready, and I gotta go (something with chicken and lotsa garlic..., and yes, HE cooked while I was in the tub) Eat your heart out (giggle
All my love, with content and in peace
© Sorcy SummerWind, 1998-2006
