The narrow, winding roads

speak of a time so ancient

and a way of life so foreign

that we,

the current form

of humankind,

was not even a hint

of the tiniest whisper

of a dream

Standing at the bottom of the hill, she looked up at the path. Quietly, she watched the other Pilgrims make the ascent. Each on their own journey, alone with their thoughts and the land.

Not long ago, she would have simply watched them disappear. Turning back to the bus, claiming it was too much, too soon, too difficult. Not today.

She smiled and started up the path, following the others yet finding her own way. As she walked on past the sheep and the heather, she felt a sense of pride. Emotion, threatening to overtake her, was allowed to instead wash over her and be felt with a sense of peace rather than panic.

She allowed herself to stop, not so much because she needed the rest, but rather because she needed to take in her surroundings. To see how far she'd come and how far she had yet to go. The sheep here were much like they were everywhere. Used to the comings and goings of people, they didn't seem overly bothered by her presence.

The last part of the climb was challenging and she asked herself if she dared risk it.

"I've come to far not to try."

So she pushed forward and found a path, well travelled but by sheep. She was thankful to have small feet as she nimbly picked her way toward her goal.

When at last she arrived at the first cairn, she took a deep breath. A smile broke forth that was broad and genuine. A sense of accomplishment swept over her. She glanced upward and saw other Pilgrims had climbed to the cairns above, but that did not dim her pride. She had done what she set out to do, on her terms, in her time.

The land

dotted with heather

undisturbed by

the trodding of pilgrims.

Is it only because

of the fence and the signs,

physical boundaries

and warnings?

Respect for the land

now less than intuitive.