The path stretches out ahead of me along the ridge. To each side the land drops away steeply into the swirling mist and fog. I pause … thankful to be out of the fog.
The sun is up above and although there is a chill breeze I can feel it’s warmth on my face.
Up ahead the path disappears over a ridge – I have no way of knowing whether it continues in the sunlight or plunges back down into the dark forbidding fog. I slowly take careful steps forward. The path is very uneven and strewn with loose rocks, willing me to stumble and fall, threatening me with the fathomless unknown each side.
I stop once more – I feel guilty for enjoying the sun when others are lost in the fog below. I want to forget where I have come from; I want to escape; I want to stay there with the warmth on my face – is that selfish of me?