As everyone leaves the dying fire and heads for bed, I reach into my pack and pull out my Bible, flipping to a verse that's been running through my head the whole night:
When I consider the heavens,
The work of your fingers,
The moon and the stars,
Which you have set in place,
What is man that you are mindful of him?
The son of man that you care for him?
In the morning, I hear voices around our campsite, and peek out of my sleeping bag to see Bill and Matt packing up. They had to head back down for Matt's game, but I lay back in my hammock and stare at the sky.
The wind blows, and golden aspen leaves float down, riding on the wind, twisting this way and that. The sun lights up the western ridge, covered in pine and rock and aspen. A bird wings across above me: every time it opens its wings, the sun shines on its bright breast with a golden gleam. Then it closes its wings and it becomes a brown speck, launching itself through the air.
I reach down and grab my JetBoil fuel and stuff it in my bag with me so it warms up. Later, I climb out and start boiling water for oatmeal. Carly crawls out of her tent and eats it, then I make myself a bowl. Once everyone's up and packed up and the fire's out, we head up to the peak.
The aspens are beautiful, golden patches in the evergreen forest.
Up on the highest mountaintop, just wanna hold that breath forever...
"Changes in the Weather" by Barefoot Truth