Standing on a ridge, the world sloping downwards on both sides. The sky grew dark and the heavens opened up. The canopy swayed under the force of the wind, but standing below it, there was only a cold whisper.
I looked back, mentally tracing the trail behind me all the way back to the starting point. Hundreds of years of compacted earth, under the feet of those who have tread the same path; warriors seeking revenge on another tribe, a mother and a sick child seeking medical help, a farmer with the weight of his rattan basket cutting into his shoulder, a forest ranger guiding a team of volunteers to conduct medical clinics at each village, and then there’s us.
The trail must have changed over time, small detours became new routes, new structures replacing old paths, but we walk in the company of giants who walked before us. I am reminded of the wise words at the entrance of national parks in Sabah, ‘Take nothing but memories and leave nothing but footprints.’