We were lost for a bit- quite a bit, actually. Took the wrong trail at the opening of all trails, which also meant that we were wrong since the beginning, that we couldn't have un-lost how lost we were by trekking up and down paths that required so much concentration; that part of the hill was not meant for amateur trekking, I suppose (after all it was the wrong side).
However, amidst the dark, the lost and the wandering, I looked up and found that it was all worth it. I forgot what the night sky outside the city promised. Countless twinkling bits against a bottomless black. That was all I saw, and at that moment I forgot that we were lost, as I lost myself in the marvels of the sky.
I also liked the air. The air was thin, and crisp. Each breath I took made my step lighter, bouncier. It was clean, and I liked the way it awakened my lungs. My mind was clear, cool, and every time I inhaled it became clearer, cooler.
The sounds as I walked did not escape my attention, either. I liked how nature sounded. I liked how the sand and dry leaves beneath my feet responded with crunches. I liked how the cricket went on, and on, and on. I liked that even the wind created music of its own, whispered howls into my ear.
Eventually the sun rose and we found our way to the top, and while I enjoyed how the sun warmed my cheeks and how high up we were I thought I could kiss the blinding sky - I preferred my wanders in the dark just a little bit more.
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