Through the sun sated valley and most of the tree bristled mountain, night sauntered in on idle feet. The sun crested a high ridge, and then dipped down below it while its fingers still grasped the ridge, as if it would intermittently jump back up and offer condolences with a toothy glittery smile. Instead, it let go of the ridge to offer condolences to the other half of the desolate and sun barren world, leaving me with only a faint and rueful remembrance of its smile. I knew, however, that it would be back. Thankfully, I knew that. 1
The mountain lay at my feet and the lilting hum of the wind at my back. It was not a particularly formidable mountain, as its big arms congenially wrapped around the valley and me, at its feet, yet it wrestled a fair divot in the horizon. The night was fresh and convivial, with an air of expectancy that was almost palpable, yet not overbearing. 2
I began the trek up the side, slowly elevating, crunching over downfallen leaves. It was one of those nights when the crunch of feet reverberated and danced through the pine and cedar trees, giving the impression that one was totally and very alone, which was highly comforting. A sudden symphony of crickets began a high undulating tenor, and was eventually aided by the baritone wind, twanging off of the trees. It was as if nature was conspiring to accommodate me. 3
When I reached the zenith of the mountain, the sky twinkled and glistened, and a grove of pine trees below swayed slightly to the lulling voice of the wind. I looked to the stars, wondering who else might be looking to the stars and wondering as well. I would like to meet that person. The sky is the thinker’s canvas; the mind his paint and brushes. I carried a little blue notebook festooned with weather stains and light tousled pages with me to keep me company. Paint the sky, I wrote. 4
It is harrowing to think that being on top of the world means being under all that black space, if you let it be that way. It shows you have places to aspire to; a place to reach you otherwise idle and insouciant hands towards, I wrote. Grab some sky, I wrote, and grab some more after that. Reach until there is nowhere to reach towards, and when that time comes, find somewhere else to reach towards, I wrote. 5
I laid down, supine, staring at the sky, my arms extended. I grabbed a star between my index finger and thumb, and grabbed another, and grabbed another, and wrested a whole family of stars to embrace from the sky. The orchestra of crickets and wind reached a crescendo in the background. I gazed towards the moon, whose mouth was slightly ajar, as if she was laughing profusely or was on the verge of saying something. I could hear her laughter enveloping me and wrapping me up, blanketing me. I fell asleep to the laughter of the moon interspersed between the orchestra of nature and the coruscation of the stars. The moon continued her comforting laugh; laughing at life, laughing at the stars, and laughing at all the feeble hands and arms extended towards her. 6
Author notes
This is a very short story where I was limited to strict confines. I am solely looking to improve this piece, and any help would be greatly appreciated. I would much prefer the candid truthful frank response to the contrived "This is good" response. If this is mediocre, tell me. If not, tell me. And why, please. Thanks for the time.
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Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Beautiful melodies
Wow...awesome poem...I think everyone would find something different in this work...i love it... -
night sauntered in on idle feet --- This part grabbed me instantly and made me read the rest, which is great and useful as it is at the beginning. Your description of nature and the hike is amazing, but although i do think it is very excellent, and i dont think i could have written anything half so beautiful as you it feels like its lacking in...you, you describe a lot of things, yet your emotions are...short. You describe what you are doing and how amazing the world is, but...i dont know, sorry, just tryin to think of something more than GREAT! and KEEP IT UP! to say
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A grand vista with or without hiking boots.
You remind me of Fredrich Pohl, one of my favorites in the SF world, you could taste the air where he took you, and see the changes in the sky. A righteous piece of work sir let me know when you publish your first. -
ooh a night hike the best kind
you capture nature's beauty wonderfully. i like that bit about the sky being the thinkers canvas- so very true 
. i know you didnt want a "thats good" but i honestly can find anything to criticize. yes its short but i think to extend it would be to stretch something lovely into something mundane. keep up the good work.
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Good.
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Very nicely done!!! *applause* Keep it up, you've definelty got talent. You've a gift with description and imagery that is not only hard to come by, but is very unique and very memorable. Please, please, never stop writing. To waste a talent like yours would be a crime.
- Aurelia Finn - -
awesome
"I grabbed a star between my index finger and thumb, and grabbed another, and grabbed another, and wrested a whole family of stars to embrace from the sky." <-- I think this line makes your entire story. THis was a well constructed piece, I love the part above,It was well versed and I really like this! Awesome Write! -Amber
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