Before the rooster crowed Tom, Sarah and I set off toward the breathtaking Mont St. Michel. In the early morning purplish haze the monastery stood black in the sky. Slightly cold and in our morning daze we walked toward the medieval town stuck in time, quiet and dark. As we walked up the stairs to the fortress wall, the orange sun christened the horizon, spilling its light over the water. For a moment we stopped to watch the sun spread the magic over the walls into the walls. As I stood there I questioned reality, was I even in the 21st century?
It felt so surreal to watch the town come alive as we began to walk around the walls up to the monastery. Slowly more people began to emerge from within to begin there day. As Sarah, Tom and I winded through the streets we talked about the trip; our goals, our experiences and most importantly we pondered time. The sun rises and sets, people live and people die. Our conversation went from funny and light to serious and pensive. It was as if we woke up with the city and entered into the 21st century with them. As walked back for class, I realized how effected I was by the simplicity of the moment and perhaps the Odyssey I have undertaken. The moment wasn’t just a walk at sunrise. It was the magic of the light on the water and the sound of hammers as people begun to work. It was as if we walked into a time machine that captured the beauty of the hay day as it stood there hundreds of years later.