Transfigured

The quick warm wind whipped the sweat away from my body, my eyes chaffing at the corners. I unhooked and dropped my albatross of a backpack at my feet, heedless of the ukulele being crushed within and I greedily emptied my water bottle as exhaustion began to cede to elation. I rolled my shoulders and sighed gratefully at the popping of the bones in my unburdened spine. I stood up straight, inhaled the clean elemental scent of Spain, lifted my arms in immodest triumph and nearly touched the toes of God.  Then I smelled myself...

“Holy Mother of Kittens!!” I quickly dropped my arms, casting a furtive glance at my surroundings and gave a little jump at the unexpected masculine laughter. 

“Don’t worry Jen, the view up here is far too stunning for us to be concerned with such things as you smelling like a locker full of Limburger.”  To my right with Rome at his back, St. Peter smiled knowingly, “These mountain top moments, they are addicting, aren’t they?” I smiled in response while surveying the primal beauty of Asturias displayed hundreds of meters below my feet.

“Pah! Should we tell her how her knees will be screaming on the way down the other side?? ” Saint James chuckled roguishly on my left, blocking my path to Santiago. 

“Geez Jim, could you at least let me have ONE moment??” 

“Don’t you have a husband around here somewhere?” Peter enquired?
James pointed, “he’s off peeing behind that giant rock, but someone should really tell him that all of Spain can see him from there.” I rolled my eyes turning back to my view.

My pores felt cleansed, my joints oiled by exertion, my muscles conditioned and my face kissed by the sun. My breath evened to match that of the wind swapping at my hair as my heartbeat harmonized with terra firma. The world and all of it’s problems rested far below, out of reach as soft clouds danced enthusiastically above. 

I shook my head, “I don’t ever want to leave this place.” 

Peter hummed low in his throat,” Ah yes, I understand. We stood here once before, James, John and I. We saw love in all of it’s purity and oh, how strong was the desire to stay! He sighed deeply before continuing, “But at the end of the day we went back down the mountain, fully knowing to what we were headed.”

“Was it worth it?” 

Peter and James both nodded, the light of the universe shining in their faces. “Every second.” 

“What will you do once YOU go down the mountain?” 
I shrugged, “Tell stories, sing songs? Teach, learn? But how will I know if it is enough?” 

“You don’t.. so do more!” Peter said while patting me none to gently on the back. 

“But when you get to my house in Santiago,” James piped in, “make sure you stay out late, dance in the square.” 

St. James and St. Peter began chatting companionably as they wandered dismissively off but before disappearing over the crest, James paused to look back my way, “Oh, and later today when you pass the red-faced, skinny, Russian man, make sure you stop for a chat. He has wine in his canteen!” 

And with that last bit of vital advice, Peter and James walked off in search of John and their lunch, leaving me with my mountaintop perch, endless sky, distant windmills, one bemused cow and one famished husband.