The Daily Post – Daily Prompt: Surreal
It is dusk. Or wait, it is dawn. I think it’s both. I can’t tell. The lights haven’t moved. I can’t tell whether it’s coming or going.
The atmosphere seems perfect. The slightly nip air compensated for the effort exerted to climb the mountain. We are all on what seemed like high end mountain bikes slowly making the ascent, taking our time. We were already near the top of the mountain. This is the location in the timeline my reality begins.
We come across a small patch of flat land near the top, just below the peak of the mountain. I say flat because in comparison to the mountain it is, but there are huge boulders scattered around along with a large lake which is partially frozen.
It is the most beautiful display of sapphire ice I have ever seen. I realise that some of the boulders are actually just solid ice and not rock. It seemed dark in colour due to the angle which I am looking at it with. As I move around closer to the lake the the ice rocks seems as if they are morphing almost, due to the colours changing.
The lake is so clear but so deep, that it took on a deeper shade of the sapphire colour and it almost begins to look murky. That is just an illusion due to its depth. If I were to throw in my bike, I would see it in crystal clarity descending until it was too far away to see.
I begin to look around to see who is with me. Roughly 14 of us are just standing there taking in the sight. I noticed that the beauty I am witnessing of the crystal blue surrounding doesn’t have the same effect on them, that it has on me. I was struck with awe, immediately realising a thought which I shoved to the back of my mind. I only recognise one of the 14. An old friend from university. They all are just resting and acting as if this kind of sight is normal around here.
Reality seems to softly shatter and then perform a single pulse and suddenly we are leaving the flat region of the mountain and begin making our way to the peak. I’m somehow again leading this group, even though I am the last person wanting to leave the landscape of what could be the backyard of the Fortress of Solitude.
Half way between the flat region and the peak I decided to get off the bike and begin walking along side it, since the terrain was getting rougher and steeper. This allowed me spots of time in between to look up in amazement at the amount of stars I’m able to see. I also notice that the Moon is huge. I mean, there is something wrong with it huge. It’s drifting…closer towards us? I look around again to the surroundings of the sky and try to picture what is taking place before me until it hits me. The Moon is on an intercept course but in a shallow arc with Earth. I mentally project the path of the Moon and realise that it isn’t going to hit the Earth, but pass right across without contact. Not an intercept but a adjusted parallel arc.
There is something about the projected distance between the Moon and Earth that keeps tugging at me until it dawns on me. If the moon gets that close, there has to be a point in which gravity becomes equalised and we could potentially jump to the Moon!
I begin rushing to the peak. I never speak a word to anyone. They see me move with such speed that their curiosity takes a hold of them to follow me. I reach the peak. My stomach feels as if I am on a down force of a swing when I used to be a kid, enjoying that feeling of slight vertigo. I grab my bike off the ground as it feels about as light as a messenger bag, and I begin to wait for the timing to be just perfect.
The Moon isn’t perfectly perpendicular in its arc to the Earth, not yet, but just before that point. That is when I decide to jump. It isn’t jolting. It isn’t death defying. It is as if pushing off the wall in a swimming pool when underwater. That momentum never dies as I begin to float towards the Moon. I’ve been looking up this entire time at the Moon being so close that I only realise now to look around as I’m exactly halfway between the Earth and Moon and the vertigo in my body shifts in the opposite direction.
The curvature of the Earth was breath taking. That same sapphire blue is now lighting up the entire planet as we continue traveling toward the moon, bikes to our sides in a slightly staggered line formation.
The landing on the Moon was about as soft as the push off of Earth. The Earth was still helping equalise the gravity, enough to give us a soft landing, but had begun to fade as the Earth is now moving away. I look around to do a head count. All present and accounted for.
We made it to the Moon.