Precariously Perched

Precariously perched mid-way on the vertical cliff face, our intrepid adventurer pauses, briefly frozen in time as he assesses his position. It has been a long climb and his muscles are fatigued to the point of failure and yet he clings on, fingers white with tension, only the very tips keeping him glued in place. Above him, the menacing rock face he has become accustomed to leading to a summit from which there may in fact be no panorama at all. En route, fierce winds and brutal elements will keep him company as his hands feel for each new semblance of a ledge to cling to with renewed hope of progressing. In the back of his mind is the nagging voice of experience reminding him that the promise of a good grip is often betrayed and more often than not these potentially helpful mantles are home to venomous snakes or loose rocks, each as dangerous as the other. Below him, the long route he has climbed, the sharp rocks that claimed his blood and the ledges that charted his steady progress. Equally as abundant are the cracks and steadfast rocks that hold his anchors firmly in place, each with its own story through which the rope that tracks his route feeds. As he looks up and contemplates his next move, weighing up the struggle to the summit against the effortless abseil back to where he began this journey. A move that would only leave him back at square one, ground level once again with enough rope and experience to set off in search of another mountain. Leaving behind memories and anchors along a path that another climber may choose to tackle one day. Today, he considers himself lucky because the skies are so perfectly clear so it’s as good a time as any to make the decision. Both paths are visible, both carry costs and both have rewards although neither are guaranteed or even a known quantity let alone worth moving towards or away from, such is the quandary that he faces.