Suddenly, I was aware of being in a tropical lagoon, floating on a raft, and getting ready to navigate a small channel that would take us inland. The whole sensation was one of intimacy and isolation, accented by the enclosure of this predominantly mountainous island in the barrenness of a vast sea. There was a somberness, itself, enhanced by a pervading sense of duty and necessity. Yet I knew not, what we were getting ourselves into. Save for the haunting echoes of distant sea birds calling on the wind, the silence of moving through quiet waters remained as our only companion for awhile. There was a noticeable absence of even the gentlest of lapping sounds on our hull, yet we were being propelled by unseen currents to the mountain base and where it's inlet met at the inward side of the island's lagoon.
The water was intensely blue, and the cliff walls that were getting ever nearer seemed foreboding in their spectacular height. It could have just as easily become a claustrophobic episode, yet we moved into the narrow channel. I remember being preoccupied with how deep the water might have been and how eerie the steep rocky slopes were. In focusing more attention on the ominous overhanging cliffs, I became aware that they were composed of solid rock, and not of a myriad loosely strewn boulders. Luckily, and despite their overwhelming largess, I found reassurance in the closeness of proximity to all of this structural integrity. It was an integrity that seemed to ooze from the walls and right into the purpose of our mission.
We had now moved deeply into the indistinguishable volume of this mountainous island. The narrow channel opened up into a massive inland lake and it was easy to tell that the rocky substructure had also changed. As I managed to move closer to one particularly massive wall that abruptly rose almost straight up from the water, I reached out to touch it. The wall seemed to be composed of a crusty material with an unknown but shallow depth. The material was fragile, crispy, and kind of porous. It reminded me of what soda ash would be like after being wetted, and then sun dried.
Although it obtusely faced all who approached it from sea level, I could still tell that this massive wall leaned imperceptibly backwards. Entertaining the notion that the inherent slope was nature's way of preventing this crusty material from sloughing away, I experimented with pinching off handfuls of it. The result caused me to pause and evaluate what I needed to do next.
In short order, I was about to scale the surface to obtain a higher vantage point for our undertaking. My concern manifested in the knowledge that I had to eventually puncture the surface with something like a climber's pick ax so I could put foot holds and hand holds in place in order to climb out of the sea. Even at that, I was somewhat more reluctant to puncture this surface because a flat image was carved into it with some 3D relief. On my climb, I didn't want to damage the image. It was a gigantic sculpture of what seemed to be the Hindu god Vishnu sitting cross legged and multiple sets of arms sprawled out to either side.
Finally, I decided to not delay our expedition any longer. I observed that one of my companions was already well into her own climb. She was a little higher up and a little more to my right, above me, and apparently struggling with the same problem of making foot holds without damaging the artwork beneath our grip. I assumed that my companion was Krista, although she was barely distinguishable from my vantage point. I only knew that I had fallen well behind my companions in this endeavor. So, I began to climb.
In order to do as little damage as possible to the sculptured wall, I moved over to the side after getting a little way above the water. The climbing surface became a little less sloped and quite a bit easier to stay put, so I rested for a moment. In looking over the area, it didn't seem so big now. On the opposite side of the lake there was a more hilly bank above the shoreline. I could see a couple of dozen people; a mixture of boys and girls, moving along as if they were on a hike or an exploration of their own.
As I watched across the way, there was one girl that I focused upon who seemed quite familiar to me, but I had no reason for why this was so. Suddenly, she appeared in the nearer proximity without me even being aware of how she got there. It was astonishing to realize that she had just "popped" in, upon an adjacent ledge, albeit several feet higher than my own. She certainly got there with far less effort than I had to give for being there, but it still felt like it was merely a natural coincidence. She paused and looked me over, giving me a peculiar sensation that I was being "sized up" for something. I studied her even as she was studying me. She was a pretty blond that didn't seem to be much older than eleven or twelve, but she kept looking at me with piercing eyes as if in anticipation for me to do something other than stare back. I admit that I was mesmerized by her peculiar mannerism. In the awkwardness of this extended silence, I finally said hello to her. Her response was as unostentatious and dry as someone attempting to hide both curiosity and suspicion.
In a simple little voice she asked plainly, "What'cha doing?"
I said that I was taking a break, and as if that weren't enough information, she pressed again with; "So what are you going to do next?" to which I answered, "I guess we'll see how it turns out."
Though she stared at me blankly, I remained fixated on her intense and penetrating green eyes. I think we could have looked at each other for an eternity without blinking or turning away. We might have even done so, had it not been for the disruption of Krista making her presence known by coming out from the arcing curvature of the ridge just above us. I had to blink to turn away from the youngster and Krista looking down upon both of us proclaimed, "So; I see you've already met Ee-Ter-Ahe (this was a pronunciation, not the proper spelling)."
To which, the little blond girl abruptly added; "Just 'Terra' will be fine".