The trail dove off the rocky ledge and whiplashed down the deeply gashed granite, down to where the water crashed, became a pool, then overflowed between boulders, leaking down, all the way down, beyond where anyone could see or even know.
Sound changed with every descending step, an increasing, crowding tumult echoing in continuous round off the mineral faces of cliffs now chisled and gray with age.
The air smelled pungent, thick with evergreen.
The boys and Nellie were out of sight by the second switchback. Off on their own. Off to arrive down at the water's edge before I did; their goal to get there, my goal to journey, knowing that rocks and water could keep boys company for longer than time.
When I reached the shore, there they were, not throwing rocks, but climbing them. Climbing a giant wall of ancient stone. Looking for handholds, footholds on the mossy rock where there was no trail, no safe precedent hacked out for them to follow. It could not be done quickly, or flippantly, this craiggy ascent. Focus and measured intention were paramount. They were all in. Lowering their centers of gravity, they felt the physics of the climb in their very bones. Reach here, step there. Wait, not there. Maybe here. One foot, one hand. Then the other.
By careful turns they made it to an outcropping, sat astride and felt their stomachs flip as they gazed over the vast scene far below, their hands and legs instinctively gripping, holding on.
Then, one boy cast a glance way up there. Bravery rose, and so did he. Higher. Higher still. Toward the gaping hole.
I stood there, shrunk down and small, a mere speck. Watching-not-watching. Caught in the wrestle of holding on and letting go. Nellie watched, too, whining, whining. Worried that she could no longer be at their side.
One boy watched from his cliff, watched his brother climb. Higher. And even higher.
He was on his own, now, this climbing boy. Each grasp as necessary as his next breath.
Higher.
And then he was there. The cave opened before him, the rock at it's lip turned to sand. Dense air exhaled from its mouth. Blackness licked at his face, then swallowed his gaze whole.
Carefully, he turned and looked down, far, far down and found me looking up.
His triumphant wave punched the air.
Have you been looking for a tastefully designed, small house plan that lives large? You may just find what you've been seeking in the Shelter Collection - four small floor plans, based on our little house, designed for gracious living in 1100-1400 square feet. Find the study plans & building plans here.
