At our Write Women writers group today, we were given the prompt, "Write about your first day, and you can make it up." We met at my house, and where I was seated, I had a full view of Ruby Peak. So I wrote with Ruby's voice, her first day as a mountain...
"My first day as a mountain stayed at a standstill. The previous day's pushing and pushing (or was I raised, being pulled from above?) left me exhausted.
But this morning I awakened to the sun kissing the top of my head and I am shouldered with a cape of pure white snow. I'd be chilly otherwise. Beneath my cape, I'm wearing a deep green velvet gown with folds that are highlighted with flakes of golden embroidery. Around me, vapors of wistful clouds drift by as onlookers gathered at the nursery window to see the new baby.
I am named Ruby for my red cheeks and the gemstones gathered around my neck.
I have a wonderful view of the valley below me and more mountains beyond. But for today, I am content to just stand here with my brother Joseph, and be a mountain."
A 50-something woman comes home to a place she's never been before.