A strong man would feel weak in the still heat of the day, but Beloved is t that kind of man. When it gets hot, he wilts and melts into a puddle of limp humanity. That’s why I was up at the bluffs on my own. There is something to knowing your limits, not that I would let Beloved know that. It is akin to letting him know he is right. Letting him know he is right makes me feel somewhat smaller in a way I’d rather not feel it.
So I was up on the bluffs on my own, imagining what it would have been like to walk with Beloved up here. I’ve been a few times, feeling the wind blow in a variety of ways. But I’ve made those walks alone because the heat is too much for Beloved, not to mention the sun. The four-footed one isn’t permitted along this path and they check to ensure no dogs are on it. They say it is to protect their natural wildlife and I can accept that.
The bluffs let you see only so far, despite how far you climb up them. The land is very much a series of high places and deep valleys so you end up seeing only as far next night place. The elders assure me that if I walk along the path which basically follows the jagged ridges, I will reach a place where it clears to a steep climb. If I climb the sacred mountain, I will be able to see as far as the sky and the sea blend into one and I smaller than I could ever be.
Each time I arrive on the bluffs, the winds swirling this way and that, I wonder what it would be like to take that journey. I fear I waited too long to take that up taken trek. Maybe, with the right magic of sorts, I will make that trek once. The show back in town would go on regardless of where I go. Beloved would wait, as he always does, for my return.
He watches me walk off in cold dawns alone, knowing I am heading here, and no idea when I will return. I’m sure the locals judge this behavior, both his and mine, he will wait his turn so to speak, while I rush into things. And I rush up to the bluffs, the swirling winds, and the passage of unnoticed time.
I never rush back. I am not a strong man, and the still heat of the day hits me as I step back from the jagged edge to make my way to town. I imagine myself oozing down the path, slowly slipping and sliding down the path. I will slip undectected into the house so I can’t hear the “I told you so” in Beloved’s look. Of course I don’t really ooze back. I slowly make my way back, stopping for a refreshing drink and some local talk. This way when I come throughthe doors I am neither stumbling nor am I looking like a melted mass of myself. Instead of the speech Beloved is waiting to deliver , he settles for asking me when I will learn to not do this to myself. And I answer, with a smile, when I become a strong man!