Compared to Rocks and Mountains

“What are men compared to rocks and mountains?”

It was Elizabeth (Pride and Prejudice) who said this, and I knew then that she was right. Nature gives you a different kind of romance that is more peaceful, more pure, and more profound. It’s a love that transcends the physical and is almost paranormal—like somehow you’ve been touched by something divine.

This weekend, my friends and I went to a remote village to try their new adventure park. It was quite far from the city; we felt like we passed around ten mountains or so. But when we got there, the seemingly endless road trip was well worth listening to annoying kids sing Justin Bieber songs and narrate their life story to friends who were obviously not interested.

The whole park was, according to our very friendly guide, 133 hectares wide and is owned by a Chinese family whom we had the pleasure of meeting that day (such a lovely lot). They offer several activities that satiate adrenaline and adventure highs that some of us are wont to look for after being stuck in constancy for so long—a price that comes with living in the city. The adventure rates and packages are quite reasonable as well, so it was a perfect getaway.

We did trekking, caving, zipline, and horseback riding. I had the most fun during the zipline and horseback riding. I’ve always wanted to ride a horse and see if it feels good like the movies make it appear. The truth is it hurt! I couldn’t feel my legs for three minutes after I dismounted. I think it was probably because my legs are too short; my feet didn’t even reach the frickin’ stirrup! But all was well.

I also discovered when we were walking toward the cave and during the caving activity and especially during the zipline that I wasn’t that afraid of heights. My stomach turned a couple of knots of course, but I wasn’t dizzy or nauseous like I’d normally feel when I’m climbing a high staircase. I think my fear of falling isn’t triggered because I know that when I fall, I’m going to land on soft ground. In contrast, if I fall on a staircase, I’d hit my head on concrete and get brain damage or die.

The weather was cooperative too. The sun would be smoldering for one second and be covered by nimbus clouds the next. It never rained on us, which was great (but then I secretly hoped it would). Ah, how the air smelled good! It just makes you want to roll on the grass until gravity takes you somewhere nice.

We got home that day with little cuts from the grasses but with memories that we bragged to everyone on Facebook.

On Sunday, Hannah and I joined an eco-marathon whose proceeds are going to a team of engineering students who will be building a car that doesn't run on petroleum. We ran the whole six kilometers; it was so much fun! And I'm sure my body appreciated the sweat (which was offset by the pounds of food I ate after *groan*).

But the best thing about this weekend was the part where I walked drenched in the morning rain. I felt so beautiful—like I was meeting nature for the first time after being separated for who-knows-how-long, like meeting an old friend. The streets were empty too, so I was at liberty to smile and close my eyes without having to fear about people thinking I'm some kind of wet lunatic. I got home that morning feeling a special kind of happiness, the kind that words will never be able to describes, the kind that only God can give. It's the happiness of knowing that God is there, holding me with the rain, whispering to me through the wind, loving me by opening my eyes to the beauty that he made just for me to behold.

What are men compared to rocks and mountains? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.