Dog on Colma di Mombarone. Photo by Dan Fador.
Praise God, I am not a flatlander.
Down there, under the clouds, is a world overflowing with flatlanders. Men and women who exist under the spell of technology. They schedule themselves by the atomic clock, they measure themselves by the paycheck and they amuse themselves by the befuddlement of millions of pixels.
What I see, what I know, what I touch, is beyond their knowledge. It’s beyond what they ever hope to know. They cannot experience God on this earth like I have known Him.
I have seen the spectacles of the spring wildflowers. I have experienced the ghostly fear of the quaking aspen. I have felt the murderous intentions of an early blizzard. Even when these mountains spite me with hardship and loneliness, I understand the poetic license within their foul temperaments.
The reverence of a stalking mountain lion is a testimony. The roar of the spring runoff is a sacred psalm. These are my revelation of the Creator. These are my Gospel of the loving Christ.
Die on the mountain or seek comfort from the technology of the flatlanders? I have made my choice.
It’s time for the mountain to win one.
Praise God, I am not a flatlander!
This post was my entry into the Flash! Friday Micro Fiction Contest for today. The photo included above is the prompt for today’s competition. Perhaps you would like to go over and draw up an entry?