Page 118 - Contrast2015

Savannah Dawson

I stand alone. Alone on the brink of a sheer, rough cliff on
a windy dawn. I’ve been driving for hours, uncertain of where
I was going, only sure that I wanted to be up as high as
possible: high, silent, and alone. I don’t know why I chose
this place though. I haven’t been here since I was a little girl.

My grandpa led me right to the edge, right where I am now
standing, and together, we stared down at the dizzying
depths. My head fills with distant memories as I echo that
long-ago motion, gazing down the sheer rock at the forest of
grass blade-sized trees: oak, pine, rowan, ash, maple, and
locust. Their branches, thick with silky leaves, sway elegantly
in the rough breeze. The wind tears around me hungrily,
pressing against my frail body poised on the rock precipice. I
slide my gaze back to the open sky in front of me.

A pair of red-tailed hawks are circling upward on a
thermal, beckoning me to join them in their dance. The time
has come. I glance back at the darkened land behind me, the
empty parking lot and trees. But in truth, I am staring back at
my life. Wondering, if I had it to do again, would I be able to
fix my mistakes? What would my life be like? Would I be
standing here now, thinking, wondering—alone? I turn back
to the edge, the point of no return, my mind still in turmoil. I
brush a wind-elicited tear from my eye. It is time. My time.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, banishing my fears
to the darkest corners of my mind. My eyes flutter open as I
hear it, my wind. As it strikes the cliff, I step forward, onto
the air. I fall for a moment, but then the riptide strikes me.
My hang glider opens, catching the wind. I fly, rising
hundreds of feet in mere seconds. My fears, thoughts, and
memories are left far behind me as I glide. I lose myself in the
open sky, alone, silent, and higher than ever.

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