Pictured is the final ascent of a peak I climbed recently.
Long since having passed the far more gradual grade of the delightfully meandering, well-maintained trail through the cool forest far below where the path was wide enough to accommodate two hikers side-by-side, I looked up at this last pitch to the peak looming before me – and leering back at me for that matter – a boulder strewn path, excruciatingly difficult.
My breathing was labored, brief rest stops were often, spindly trees and even roots provided desperately needed handholds.
Here on the final ascent, this narrow path, there was room for only one.
Cue up the song “Final Ascent” by Hans Zimmer for the soundtrack “No Time to Die.”
“Intensity builds,” writes Gina Blackburn of this musical score, “for the moment when the hero rises above his challenges and overcomes all obstacles in his path.
“Soaring melodies and intense orchestration reflect the triumph and determination of the character creating a truly epic musical experience.”
That’s life, isn’t it?
We start out as a happily married couple with anticipation of children and grandchildren, collecting along the way albums and albums, boxes, and boxes, of photo memories of growing old and grey together, side-by-side, hand-in-hand, loving and living and enjoying life.
There was no time to die, but then she did.
And now the last ascent is alone.
Where there is room for only one.
