Cameron's Belief Sketch

I sit on the school bus, listening to the low hum of the wheels traverse over the smooth black asphalt. The bus is empty and all is quiet as we make our way through the winding turns and elevated streets to a high mountaintop. There is no iPhone to stimulate my preoccupied mind. It’s too dark to do homework. I’m left alone to my thoughts. As the sun begins to rise, the bus makes its ascent to the next stop. Silhouettes of trees fill my vision and line the streets. We live at the base of the foothills in a small town in Northern California. The gears of the bus downshift, continuously pulling the weight of the big yellow automobile up the hill. I begin reflecting on last weekend’s adventures. I see a young boy. The boy looks down at the orange and black plastics that garnish the interior engine of his KTM and appreciation floods over him at the return to the high desert. He’s wearing a helmet, pads, and most importantly, riding boots. He’s got a thirst for speed, at times too much according to the boy’s mother. Excitement flowing through the teen’s body he mounts the maniacal machine. I smile at the memory. Oh, how I long to return to that place, across the Sierra Nevada’s and unto the desert. The bus's brakes screech to a halt. We’ve made it to the first stop at the top of the mountain. From here my gaze floods over the sea of trees at the speed of light. The rolling hills slowly grow into mountains as they reach the Sierra Nevada’s. They stand tall, proud, magnificent. A purplish hue garnishes their majesty, and the serenity of the Holy Ghost fills my mind at the sight of God’s creation. All I can think about is when my beloved bike and I can be united again in our earthly chapel at Moon Rocks, Nevada.