Climbing a mountain is normally a solitary activity. Even in a group of people, the task, the struggle, pulls one into oneself. It is cold here. So cold that I notice the heat that comes from my own face and breath. I am about to continue my ascent, but wait. Who is this? A white bird. White as snow. White as the cloud-covered sky. White as the whites of my eyes, open wide with surprise and delight.
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