Open Writing

The light of a new day was slipping through cracks in the rough walls of the dwelling. Sleeping figures took shape, huddled under their covers for warmth.

The old man rose quietly from his corner, easing the stiffness from his joints. He wrapped a wad of bread and some dried meat in a cloth, just enough for the journey. It was time to go.

Gathering his worn cloak from the floor, he crept to the door, pausing only to look upon his sleeping grandchildren. Only two now, the others had died.

Another figure stirred, watching his silent movements. A long look passed between father and son, then the old man nodded his farewell and left.

It was cold, no heat from the newly risen sun but he had to leave early. There was a long way to go. He left the village by the track through the wood, smoke from the fires of yesterday still scenting the air.

Quiet fir trees and the soft track underfoot held his mood of sleeping, dreaming and remembering - remembering the times he had walked this path with Oonah, his mate who had died many seasons past. Old age had come upon him since then.

The woods grew sparse and he was on a grassy slope dropping down to the valley and The River. Time now to lengthen his stride and move in the unhurried pace the hunters used in their search for game.

He remembered hunts from the past, the young men in their full strength, noisy and playful as children setting out from the village. Quietness would come upon them as they drew near the hunting grounds, taking their positions to close in on the prey.

There had been plenty of meat in those days but now there was little to be found, only small animals and not enough to keep the people in good health. Roots and nuts from the woods were plentiful and some fish from The River, but there was never enough meat.

No longer could he eat the food his son provided and watch the children look hungrily for more - their faces sharp and pale.

Now the light was stronger as he reached The River, which was narrow here, and fast, tumbling through its rocky channel. The path was rough and stony and he moved with care until he reached the smooth earth near the crossing place. Shallow icy water caught his breath as he splashed his way to the other side.

The track took him away from The River towards a pass in the distant hills. It would be time to rest and eat when he came to the trees, seen from here as a long dark smudge leading upwards.

An eagle drifted high in its spiral far ahead: lowland birds were wheeping in the low scrubby bushes around him, lifting his spirits as the sun became bolder and brought some warmth.

It seemed to him that Oonah was with him now and he reminded her of the journeys they had made in their youth and strength - Oonah with her strong legs and flowing dark hair, laughing with the other women.

Late in the morning he was near the wood and found a sheltered spot in a grassy hollow. The bread and meat were solid and comforting. He would drink from a stream later. Sleep came over him as he rested with his cloak pillowing his head, the sun warming his bones.

A dream was with him on waking, but it came apart like a cobweb as he tried to hold it. Reluctantly he left his warm nest and made for the wood, easing into a slow steady space. Birdsong from small flitting shapes followed him but no animals were there.

The ground lifted as the trees grew sparse, then the mountain gathered itself before him, a challenge to any man in his youth but awesome and fearful to one of his years. Behind the western shoulder of the great mass was the place he had found with Oonah in a time long past, the place he must find now.

The path grew steep. There were few rocks here, which made for an easier approach, but still the distance was great. He closed his eyes, listening to the living silence around him, then started to climb. Time and thought meshed within him, scents from the mountain plants and bracken sustaining his steady pace.

Sometimes outcrops of rock and swathes of heather would slow his pace but still he moved upward. His stride became a slow plod. At times he went on hands and knees to keep his balance. Heart and lungs cried for rest but an image of place was with him.

The high keening note of a bird brought awareness that he had stopped, lying on a wide ledge where rocks gave shelter to hollows in the soft grass. The land fell away in front, giving onto another wooded slope leading on down to the plain. Above, the great peak soared to meet the clouds. This was the place.

Darkness came as the sun left the land. Wrapped in his cloak, shoulders resting on a pillow of bracken, he thought of his family in their dwelling. There would be more food for the children in the days to come.

Memories came drifting in of the old days, his own children growing in strength and good health, Oonah by his side. He looked upwards. Stars glittered from their dark heavens and a deep peace sighed out with his breath as he closed his eyes.

He would sleep now.