Bitterly, I succumbed to consciousness. A rousing awareness manifested my mind and spread through the furthest reaches of my body. It was pitch black when I opened my eyes. I had to feel my face with my hands to make sure my eyes were open. There were aches and pains that shot through my veins and when I closed my eyes I saw flashes of crimson. My body felt completely detached from itself and yet it was all accounted for. Hands, feet, check. Arms, legs, check. Head? Check. Mind? Questionable. And then I became frightfully aware of the silence. The only thing making sound was me and I could not make sense of where I was. I stood. I fell, tripping over my own limbs. I had no memory… of anything. Not only did I not know who I was, but I was unable to understand what I was. Life coursed through me and I stood again. Finding a wall I drew close to it and crept forward keeping my hands on the wall for guidance. There was a light and I seemed drawn to it. The hard surfaces that swallowed me took shape in the light and I recognized my tomb as a cave; a large, open, arid, cold cave. Stepping up to the precipice I became quickly aware that the mouth of the cave opened out of the side of a cliff. I gazed upon a vast and tumultuous world below. A harsh wind blew through the treetops and caused their delicate leaves to dance expectantly with the knowledge that a departure from the life force was immanent. It was a deciduas forest that was so thick I had to imagine the underbrush. Birds below taunted me with their wings. They swooped in delight, beckoning the wind to do its worst. The cliff face was smooth like marble, with the exception of a few places that looked like shattered glass. I was hundreds of feet from the bottom. I laid down on my back at the entrance, scooted my head out over the edge and peered up towards the top of the cliff. But there was no visible top. The cliff simple disappeared behind a bed of listless clouds that covered the sky. Turning over, I retreated a few feet back into the cave, sat up, and peered out at the world. It was the first time I had ever seen anything, and it was captivating. The wind seemed to blow in and out of me like it did with the trees, and my lungs did not seem to have to do any work. I could hear the forest live and grow beneath me. I sat and watched the world in wonder for a very long time. I named the trees trees, and then I recognized them as trees, and then I grew bored of them as trees. So I named the different kinds of trees different names, and recognized them as such, and then grew bored with them. So I erased all the names and simply marveled at the existence of such a beautiful, strong, majestic, living creation. And the wonder returned with the mystery of what was truly before my eyes. One day I grew hungry. A deep moan wailed out from my stomach and shook my bones. My body writhed in agony as the feeling kidnapped my sanity. The cave extended into pitch black, but I did not dare venture too far into the darkness for fear that I would never be able to get back to the light. There was nothing in the cave but the very rock it was carved out of. The rock was rough with lots of grooves and cracks. Its dark grey color reminded me of the storm clouds that accumulated on special days. There was a thin dust that settled on the rocks in the cave. In my desperation to ease the hunger I crawled to the wall of the cave, propped myself up against it, leaned in, and licked the dust from the rock. It was satisfying. Refreshing and not like anything I had previously experienced. As I continued to lick the cave walls my hunger diminished and my strength returned. The nutrients in the dust seemed to spread through my body like a cleansing water washing away decay. The dust supply was endless and I no longer had to concern myself with a lack of sustenance. I lay back on the floor of the cave and gazed in wonder at the dust particles that floated effortlessly though the air. Then the dust settled and the rain came. I could tell it was on its way because the birds had gone silent hours ago. They always leave when the rain comes and I miss them. It poured and I held my hands out of the opening of the cave and caught the droplets. I watched carefully as a whole new spectrum of color that only appears on rainy days danced through the drops. The light refracted through the drops as if on the way to somewhere and they had to travel through the rain to reach their destination. Eventually my cupped hands were full of water and I carefully lifted it to my dry lips. I sipped it in and enjoyed the cool feeling on my dusty tongue. I was not thirsty, but I couldn’t help but be enamored with the way the water ran over my tongue and fell slowly down the back of my throat. Catching more water in my hands I dipped my whole face in it and rinsed away the past. I was fully present in this moment and fully happy in this moment. Hardships had passed and, deep down, I knew more would come, but at this moment I was completely content. With each handful of water I carefully rinsed away all the dust from my body and watched as it trickled down my boney legs and made tiny pools in the small depressions and grooves of the rock. I went and sat at the mouth of the cave, carefully dangled my legs out over the opening and let the full force of the thunder show hit me in the face. The water washed away the past, the wind blew worry of the future out of my mind, the lightning excited me, and the thunder scared me just enough to keep me in the moment. Never before had anyone enjoyed or loved a storm as much as I did in this very moment. To live perpetually here, dangling legs and all, would make me the happiest creature to have ever lived. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and prickled; goose bumps rose all over my skin accompanied by a delightful little tingling sensation. After I assessed each part of the experience individually I cleared my mind, breathed in deeply, and allowed the full weight of the scene to unfold before me. I had enjoyed other storms, but had never known one like this. I decided this was a present to me, to celebrate my cave birth. It was the right season for it. But, as all physical experiences do, this too came to an end. The winds slowed and halted, the heavy down pour turned into a pitiful drizzle, the thunder and lightning moved away into the distance until it was no longer visible, but I was still here. I could not disappear into the distance. No wings on this little buddy. I am not sure how long I sat there or how long the storm had lasted, but when I finally did fall back from the entrance and crawl further into the cave my body was sore and stiff. I figured I must have sat there for days just watching. The birds returned and I looked on as they swooped through the air and called to one another. They flew in and out of formation as if simply doing it to enjoy one another. I too enjoyed it, but I was not one of them and they wouldn’t come up to visit. I had never seen one fly as high as the mouth of my dank fortress. And, for the first time, I wondered where my companion was. Sometimes I would lie on my back at the mouth of the cave and watch the clouds drift by making shapes as they went. I would make noises to them, trying to convince them to drift a little closer, but they never did. That is what I was doing one day when the most unexpected thing happened. I saw something on the side of the cliff that had never been there before. It was above me and slightly to the left, but not that far away, maybe a couple hundred feet at best. As I watched closely, a gentle breeze blew and rustled the long blond strands that seemed to be attached to that particular spot on the cliff. But then something happened. It pulled itself back into the cliff face somehow. It disappeared. I cried out, willing it to return. I cried out loudly. Over and over I shrieked, whooped, hollered, and called with inaudible, nonsensical words I had made up. And something reappeared in the same spot, but it was different. It was a little face. Like mine but different, and those beautiful long blond strands flowed loosely around the tiny face now peering back at me. I looked closely and could just make out a smile. I smiled back and had the strangest feeling well up inside me. I knew I was no longer alone. This loneliness had been a feeling that had been growing for quite some time. The voice the whooped back at me was not like mine either. It was higher pitched with a song-like element. It reminded me of the melody that birds sing first thing in the morning. I felt more passionately for this golden-strand creature than anything else I had previously encountered. And I believe she felt the same way because for the longest time we just sat there and called out to one another. And when we grew tired of that we just stared at one another. Eventually one of us would get sleepy and retreat into the cave, but at first light we would crawl to the ledge trapping us in, lean our heads over and the other would already be there waiting. This went on for a very long time. I watched enviously as she tied the long golden strands in beautiful intricate ways and undid them time after time. One day she surprised me. She threw a small stone out of her cave and managed to get it to hit the far wall in mine. It bounced deeper into my cave. Scrambling back from the ledge, I quickly retrieved the stone. There was a carving on the side of the stone. It was an outline of the two of us. Our hands were connected, and I wondered what it would be like to touch another living soul. Would she be warm like me? Was her skin soft to the touch? Her long golden locks, where they silky? But I suppose I would never find out because the next day I watched in amazement as she flung her body out of the mouth of the cave and sent it sailing though the air. It was the most beautiful and graceful thing I had ever seen. She soared more majestically than any bird I had ever seen before. Her body was small and slender and trembled in the wind like leaves on an Aspen tree. Eventually her body broke through the canopy below and I never knew what happened to her. But I did know I was too afraid to do what she did. I had watched birds drop out of the sky and they never looked healthy or happy when they did. But she… she had had a huge smile on her face and had turned her head ever so slightly to catch my eye as she sailed close to my cave. It was clear, however, that her intent was not to join me in my cave. I think she knew she could never make a leap big enough. Day after day I held her little carving and missed her. I sat at the mouth of my cave and gazed longingly at where her golden hair had caressed the glassy side of the cliff. When the sun had shown on it, it had shimmered. I dusted off a place about two feet back from the mouth of the cave and sat there cross-legged day after day, season after season until I was too weak to stand anymore. So I sat there for what I suppose was eternity. I am still sitting here. Sometimes I think back to my youth, the beauty of a storm, the strength in my body, her smile. But, ever since she had disappeared under the canopy, life had never been the same. Color did not dance. Rain was dull. Dust simply became dust. There was no more excitement about anything I had thought was exciting about my world before. But I was a coward and could not leap from my cave. I believe the cave to be the safest of places even if I am so sad here. Many times I have thought of falling out, bursting through the canopy and seeing her again. But I never even gained enough courage to stand once more at the opening of the cave with my toes hanging over the side. I held the small stone with our picture on it and loved it. And that is simply how life goes.
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