Uphill

The rim of the mountain was covered in brilliant white clouds, where the snow looked soft and puffy, which also added to the chilling sensation one would felt when absorbed to this scenery. It must be cold uphill.

Not far down below, rocks of different shapes and sizes took to their formation many years ago and created the unique slope of the hill, for it was steep and tough to conquer. Up there, no tree, or grass, or plant of any sort could have survived, only a kind of Lichen spread far and wide on the stones, nurtured by the fresh flowing air and the warmth of the sun. They expected no visitors and shan't be for thousands of years since their overtaking.

Going deeper, gravels filled the lower half of the mountain, whereas wild grass grew over them and a few tree stood far apart from each other. Imagine when the thunder clashed onto the rocks above and broke some of it with its almighty force of concentrated power, you could understand why trees were scarce down here. Grass though, made no attempt to acknowledge the rubble going on top of them, because eventually they would outgrew the pile of crushed stones and shown the greenness within them.

Close to the bottom of the hill, tree stood in alliances and made a fence around, they are the nature’s protector and the guardians of the animals. They dedicated their life to the surroundings asking for only one things, death, so that they could recycle the energy of the finite that relied on them, and turn over a new leaf, to continue their seemingly infinite task.

Civilization came. They chopped trees, killed animals, moved rubble, conquered hills.

The snow melted and went back being a cloud; lichens cried because of the smoke contaminated their precious air; grasses and other lesser plant leisurely took over the hills and greedily sucked every last drop of the energy stored in the ground.

There was a great fire, wild and untamed. It consumed everything along its way: it engulfed the whole village of people, it punished the grasses on the bottom of the hill, it terrorized the lichens up in the clouds and animals down in the surrounding woods.

Then there was a mild rain, caressed the earth and stroke the fire. It stopped till the heat was gone.

Years passed, and the dark markings left behind were no where to be seen. The forest recovered slowly, the grasses grew wildly, animals went away in hope of a better place. And the lichens almost saw the end of themselves.

The rim had a little white cap on, snow was gathering and making a comeback.

In due time. Hitherto.