Into the rainforest we walk
with soft steps, silent voices, and open hearts.

Morning rain seeps through the tall trees
and the mountain side is shrouded in fog.

Deeper in we cross wooden bridges
over creeks following animal tracks,

we examine stones laced with scars,
and we marvel in being here, part of something larger.

In the afternoon, the sun clears the valley,
glaciers and avalanche debris will appear.

On April 17th, 2014, at about 6:30 am local time, an avalanche struck a group of 50 Sherpas, and killed at least 13.  These people are the unknown and forgotten workhorses that literally carry some people up to the top, many perishing along the way.  Sherpas set routes with rope and anchors; they ferry loads of gear to the higher camps; they clear the way and forge a path for the paying clients shoe are going for the summit.

I understand the allure and pull of mountains, the goal of pushing your own limits, the raw battle of your mental and physical abilities against natures guardians, the true giants of the natural world.  But at what cost, and with whose life?

Mt Everest Avalanche Disaster
Mt Everest