I stood, looking out at an untouched ocean of blue and white, comfortable in my heavy parka and knit tuque. It was peaceful on top of the mountain. And lonely, although I wondered if I’d brought that with me, cloaked in a silence that was too loud at times and too quiet at others; those times when I hoped it might drown out the howling storm within me. 

Breathless, I stared out over the natural beauty, ignoring the cold that stiffened my fingers, despite my gloves. Frost clung to everything, including my heart. Tomorrow was the start of a new year, one I had always greeted with hope.  Not this year. The promise of absolution seemed out of my grasp for the first time I could recall and I felt the tears freezing on my cheeks as they fell.

“Je suis désolé,” I mouthed, the words accompanied by a cloud as my warm breath mingled with the cold mountain air.

I had much to apologize for, so much that it was overwhelming at times. There were days I wanted to scream. Not today, however. Today I wanted to drink in the solitude and lose myself in the pristine silence as I searched for something to ease the pain lodged within.

As I stood there, looking inward as much as out, I felt the kiss of a snowflake on my face. Glancing up, I realized that the sky had turned grey. How long, I wondered, had I been standing there? When I’d started my trek the sun had been bright, beckoning me to the summit. Now it had abandoned me, or so I thought.

“What are you sorry for, little one?”

I suppose I should have been startled. After all, I had thought I was alone. Instead, I merely shrugged, accepting her impossible presence.

“Everything, I suppose.”

She had a delightful laugh. And she was beautiful, as if the beauty of the woods behind me had coalesced into the form of a woman. Windswept hair and luminous eyes that changed colours as she regarded me, both dark and light, full of sadness as profound as mine one moment and then with joy that had seemed so out of reach for me lately.

“That is a great burden to bear.”

“Oui,” I agreed.

Her every movement was full of grace as she joined me, an arm light as a feather upon my shoulders as she pulled me close enough to soak in the warmth that seemed to radiate from her.  

“Burdens like that should be shared.”

I shrugged, staring out once more at the vast expanse before me.

“I have no one to share them with.”

“Share them with me. It will lighten your spirit.”

“I hurt someone. Someone I love. Hurt them deeply.”

I’d never said the words out loud, although they’d echoed in my head so many times that I wanted to scream. But never out loud. Never to someone else.

She said nothing, merely stood there, wrapped in silence, her presence strangely comforting, allowing me to continue.

“I wish I could turn back time and fix everything.”

This time she chose to speak, her voice gentle.

“There is no turning back. You can either stand still or move forward, little one.”

And then, she was gone and I was alone again, standing on the edge of forever as the snow intensified and the wind began to really blow. I thought about simply sitting down and letting the snow cover me.

That’s when I saw him loping across the freshly fallen slow. A snowshoe hare. Not at all uncommon, although what he was doing outside in this weather, I couldn’t even guess at.

Curious, I watched him wend his way through the drifts left by the last snowfall unconcerned by my presence, until he disappeared into what appeared to be an opening in the rocks. A cave? Perhaps. I decided to follow him.

I’d been right. It was a cave. The opening was small, small enough that I had to crawl on hands and knees and continue that way for several metres before it opened up enough for me to stand. There was no sign of the hare, but plenty of signs of past occupants. I hadn’t been the first to discover the small cavern. In the center was a circle of stones surrounding the ashen and charred remains of a fire and there were beer bottles and candy wrappers strewn about the floor. Condoms too. Some still in packages, and some used.  I spent some time cleaning everything up as best I could, pushing detritus with my booted foot against a wall on which someone had scrawled ‘Fuck you Harry’ in chalk. Cracking a smile, I wondered if they’d been able to move on and find someone else.

Below the angry message were several logs, an old newspaper, and a small pile of tinder. With the snow falling outside, I decided it might be wise to shelter out of the elements. It didn’t take long to get a fire going and the floor was perfectly comfortable to sit upon.

And so I waited the storm out, mulling over the woman’s words, still wondering if she’d been real or simply my overactive imagination at work.

You can either stand still or move forward she had told me. Easier said than done. Outside the wind continued to rage. Or perhaps it was the storm inside of me that disturbed my sanctuary. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, the cold deepening, only the flickering flames keeping me from freezing as they kept watch over me.

When I awoke the next morning, the wind had stilled. Crawling outside, I was greeted by a magical sight; the sun, peering down and lighting the world around me, turning the snow into a field of glittering crystals.

I took a moment to voice my heartfelt gratitude before beginning back down the mountain.  

“Merci. Bénédictions sur vous.”

 And then I began making my way forward.