There’s something about cliffs that make them so memorable in my mind. I’m not sure what it is. Perhaps, it’s that knee trembling feeling that they give me from knowing that I’m merely one wrong movement from death. Or maybe it’s the scenery they provide — an angle that is only achievable to those daring enough to attempt to reach it.
This weekend I went to Taft Point in Yosemite National Park to witness the greatness of Mother Nature. As I slowly approached that ledge, guided by the cautious words of my friends, I was immediately taken back to every memory of when I stood on a cliff. Knees quivering, heart beating, I inched closer to the ledge for my friend to get the perfect shot. The juxtaposition between the rock upon which I was standing, and the sharp formations and trees below, was as stark as the line between this world and another.
The trembling of my body telling me to get to safety. My mind sifting through the files of memory to bring, before me, my life to show me what I have. My eyes urging me to look up. I looked down. Every sign of human instinct ordered me to back away, but for a few brief moments I decided to challenge the primal.
Perhaps this is what makes them so memorable.