We were scaling Mount Si when a cloud rolled in so thick we had to wipe the mist from our faces. Our shadows, already growing longer, disappeared entirely and the time we measured by the burning in our legs and the shortness of our breath seemed to go with them. Light no longer came just from above, it was all around us, equally, and it was then that I thought part of us would never return and that moment would never end, when you gasped and whispered, LOOK, your arm outstretched, and there floating out of the fog was a ghost, and then a shadow, and finally stepping onto the rocks as new as creation itself, a beautiful, white ram.