Between borders We never needed time machines- our minds are seasoned time travelers.

Each year for Independence Day there is a traditional hike to the highest peak in Macedonia. Last year despite all the warnings I decided to go.

The bus left us at the army watch tower in the base of the mountain. Adventure filled the air as soon as I exited the bus. Just sunshine and a big rocky mountain standing between you and the peak.

I filled my water bottles and started the long hike up. The first thing I saw was a fresh spring traveling it’s way down the mountain, sparkling in the sunlight. Then came this lush green forest with trees reaching the incredibly blue skies, and roots so old they had their own life down on the forest floor.

Old sheepfolds on the road to the peak, reminded me of past times when Macedonian people depended on fresh milk and wool, the smell of freshly made cheese filled the air and I could taste it.

The hike was so difficult I wanted to quit so many times but then a butterfly or a beautiful meadow would show itself and I’d quickly change my mind. Close to the peak the view from above was like nothing I’ve ever seen in my life. Blue and yellow and green all mixed together, and the smell of fresh blueberries and wild herbs growing right there beneath the peak.

Reaching the peak was a shear state of serenity and confusion. It was only then I noticed that the entire road up is a border that cuts between Macedonia and Albania, the peak is a place in between. Muslim and Christian, always at war and yet this beautiful place is the only border standing between them. I stood there for an hour looking down bellow, thinking how the challenges I’ve just passed relate to the past and wonderful history of the people living in these two countries. There between borders I saw how insignificant we are to the mountain…