Flattop

The stars are the only light as I pull into the Bear Lake parking lot.

I click on my headlamp.

Hiking past the eerily quiet black water of Bear Lake, I begin my ascent to Flattop Mountain.

The rocks and dirt and twigs feel welcome beneath my boots.

A faint orange light begins to appear through the trees on the horizon.

The stars begin to fade away.

I stop for coffee at treeline just as the orange fireball bursts over the horizon.

The squirks of a thousand pikas fight to be heard over the howling wind.

I climb higher into the alpine tundra.

A lone bull elk watches me from afar and trots down the mountainside.

The wind tries to push me over as I approach the top.

There is no other sound but the howling in my ears.

Alone on Flattop with the howling wind.

I pause.

And join in the howling before retreating back down the mountain.