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(Monday)

One of my favourite places is Scarborough. Just back from a week there, I rediscovered my love of the seaside, and reminded myself of parts of it that I had forgotten.

The photos are from my phone so not the best quality, but they captured the places I have enjoyed for many years.

Here I am in front of the clock-tower on the south side. The sun was shining but not too much, though the wind played havoc with my hair. It was nearly a perfect day. It felt like I was sitting on top of the world, looking down onto the nearly empty part of Scarborough that most don’t know is there.

Knowing that love doesn’t hurt, and that being in love is the best feeling in the world. No Pain, NO heartache, just the security of feeling overwhelmed, and deeply caught up with the emotion that is love.

No Tears, if not tears of joy. No pain unless it’s the thought of the loss of you. No jealousy or envy, just security that our love will always remain.

Passion, sexual and emotional, shared with an audience of you and me. Imagination, dreams, thought both pure and dark , and the knowledge that we will always remain deeply in love.

No sadness when we are apart, heartfelt we know we are always one. Distance means nothing, love travels thoughts, feelings and miles, even space that eyes closed can cross.

I love you. Words rushed, the feeling never is…

Happiness is not even thinking about being happy, or what makes you happy, but just knowing you are. Is anyone truly happy, and does the thinking of it make you realise you are less happier than you thought. Maybe if I think I am sad, then I will realise that I am in actual fact less sad than I imagined, and am half way to the illusive happy state of being.

Happiness is realising what you have is better, than what you don’t.

The unexpected, the unknown, a gift not asked for, from somewhere a little off the edge. The thrill, excitement, the rush of heat that an unexpected parcel can bring. Holding a package, box, envelope, with your name on the address label, and the pause before revealing its secret.

The gorgeous warm glow, that a bunch of flowers given with love can invoke. The scent, the image, the feeling, that can be recalled again and again, on seeing them. Roses from a wedding bouquet, or a fabulous date. Daffodils or dandelions clumped together held tightly in a child’s hand…

From jewellery, to blush worthy things. From music bought or taped, to theatre tickets. From a beauty treatment, to a massage from the person you desire.

Tantalising, and thrilling, not just the mind but the body too. I love, love, love surprises however big or small ;)

Happiness is the getting of gifts, the giving is a whole different feeling.

 I thought I was seeing things today when I saw red bananas, but they do exist, shows what a narrow life I live! Am I the only person who has never seen them before?

So I am having a taste of the exotic when I eat one of these. See I do try different things, today I will be trying out a red banana. Will it make me happy? I will let yu know...

 Happiness is trying something new.

I had a great time at the new hair salon yesterday, well posh ones are salons, this is a one man hair studio with one trainee. And I have to say, one of the most enjoyable hours I have spent in a while. Great hairstyle, easy to manage but similar to what I usually have, layers and touching my shoulders. Feels so much lighter, and very swishy. I was very impressed, and he actually got me talking, a rare thing with me lately.

One funny moment that happened, was he had spent ages blow-drying it, with just enough volume, so it wasn’t flat to my head. When I had a hot flush of mammoth proportions, damn this menopause! So there was I bright red, with water streaming down my face. I was so embarrassed, I said ‘damn!’ he just smiled and, quick as anything said ‘well there goes your root lift’ He handed me a towel, saying to wipe the cut hair that had fallen on me. An awkward moment, handled with tact and humour.

I was happy with the service, the hairstyle, but even happier that he asked would I be his model for hair-colour. So I get a free colour (I can pick my own colours), and he makes an educational aid, for using new Tigi colours (new to his salon.) The only thing is, I can’t colour my hair before it, so those grey bits will just have to stay grey for now. But as I haven’t been feeling too vibrant lately, my yearning for a vibrant hair colour can wait a couple of weeks.

Happiness is having fun, genuinely good people, feeling good, and getting something for nothing :)

Sometimes the pull of sadness, the feelings of depression are so strong that they seem to colour your whole life. But today, I wasn’t feeling depressed, just down at the thought that things will never be right. That the diagnosis of an underactive thyroid is like a wash of emptiness, of grey making my days sullied, instead of clean and bright.

I know this is temporary, that medication will soon make me right again, but the days drag into weeks, and the weeks into months, until I eventually have forgotten how it is to feel alive. Take your health for granted at your own peril.

Happiness seemed to have faded from my life, erased for good. Until I began looking at photographs, they nudged my mind, teased memories until I remembered snippets of time, laughter forgotten, fun moments, the pure bliss of absolute happiness-so much so that I used to feel as though I would burst if I felt any happier.

Happiness is: The power of lost, forgotten memories that have been trapped beneath life experiences. Suddenly feeling the peeling away of grey, revealing golden moments, golden glimmers of images from the past, and feeling the memory ignite once again in a deadened brain.

I woke this morning with grey clouds strangling me, darkness wrapped tightly around me, and I just wanted to sink deeper into it. I felt so sad. Happiness is illusive, so easy for it to slip away. The line between sadness and happiness is narrow, trip up and you tumble from one into the other, without even noticing that you have crossed the line.

Happiness is- waking to misery, and not even realising when the misery has slipped away, without you even noticing it. The gentle touch of happiness unaware.

It’s raining today, but in my pursuit of happiness I am not minding it at all. I have to go out later, and the thought of wet clothes, and standing at bus-stops was enough to shrivel up any fragment of joy that may be lingering.

But and I don’t usually put videos on my blog, just listening to the J Lo song-Hold it don’t drop it that I have uploaded, just makes me want to dance, and the memory of dancing makes me feel that fluttery feeling I used to get, when a song is played that you just have to dance to.

Happiness is the anticipation of doing something that makes you feel alive.

Happiness is a bag of liquorice, a bar of chocolate, sparkling water and watching 24  on TV- long live King Jack…More please of all of the above.

What is it about a man who is deadly, dangerous, and manages to save the world, all in 24 hours?

Must be something to do with the steely, unflinching glint in his eyes, and the way he holds his gun with such determination. I am on an adrenaline high just watching him, oops and the rest of 24…

I am good, but sometimes I long to be bad. I want to take that damn halo and hide it deep in the shores of innocence. So tonight I cast away that shroud of white, cool linen; and dressed in the deepest red velvet that I could find, I prepare myself. My sweet angel sleeps, he doesn’t know the truth of me. But I hear the tap, tap of my devilish, demon calling. Hurry he says, I hear the steady fall of the silver stick he carries, as it beats its steady rhythm. His impatience is strong.

Before I go, I spin a delicate net of sleep over my sleeping angel, and watch as he is taken below the depths of slumber. I kiss him gently, so not to disturb him, I tell him I love him, but I have to go. My own halo I place beside him. ‘It’s temporary my love’ I whisper, as I take my heart and place that beside the halo. My soul I wrap, I seal it, it’s safe. But the tap, tap reminds me, my demon awaits me, and he will only wait for a brief moment.

I close my eyes, and think myself far from here, I open them and I am there. This is a place of heat, and fire, and surrounded by endless waters that never extinguish the flame. I sigh, he is here. He is angelic looking, fair hair, blue eyes, and slender of limbs. But beneath his gentle appearance lies a personality, and presence that is dark as sin. He smiles, and from far away I hear my heart stop.

‘Shall we dance?’ he says. I hear the music, it wraps itself around me, and I move, sensuous and sinuously until I am before him. I move slowly, my hips circle, he moves his hands and I follow the patterns he spins. He should be dark, and dangerous looking, but he is not. Appearances belie the truth. The music changes, my feet feel its beat, they wish to dance, but he says not yet.

He takes my hands, pulls me close, his fire absorbs me. I am one with the heat, the pulse of its flame. I am ready now, for a brief second I look back and think of purity, of goodness, of tedium and faith. I feel the reach of my sweet angel, he sleeps but something causes him to cry out, to reach with his hand, but then I am gone, I am at one with danger, heat, passion and the deep, endless sea.

Take me to heaven, but on the way, lets have a little detour to hell. I can hardly wait, anticipation causing an excess of delightful thrill. Light and dark, bright and dim, who cares as long as I taste sips from the well of both springs. Who knows which will be hot, and which will cool, I suspect one will have sensations of the perfection of both and the other will be a limitless absorption of it all.

Halo’s are all well and good, but how do you know if it fits you? if you have never tried its reverse side. So I took a chance and today I met an angel from above, and one from below. I held hands with them both and together we danced the tango.  I couldn’t work out which angel was from where. So by thought and the sense of feeling, I touched you both- and dreamed of the things I had yet to dare.

He is my friend, my confidant, my truth seeker, my lover, my tormentor, my life.

He guides, he shows, he instils, he pushes, he shoves, he grinds, he helps my life.

He laughs, he tickles, he teases, he stresses, he is wise, he is impatient, he fills my life.

He is light, he is dark, he colours, he fades, he reminds, he is the one who could break my life.

He is mine, he isn’t, he is gentle, he is kind, he seethes, he is cruel, he causes the turns of my life.

Sometimes though it would be nice,  if he had the sensitivity and sweetness of a pink, sugar filled mouse.

Cruel life, vivid and sharp, with far reaching fingers you tear at my pain filled heart.

It hurts, I cry, tears fall. I hear whispers of shame. I'm twisted inside with this torment of fate.

Its blue today, I feel its fall and I long for those days of numb filled grey.

I don’t fear life, or things that could be, I mourn today for that which is taken away.

Highly charged, colour taints the way my empty voice has no say.

Deep, dark and sickly opaque, it plagues my fragile mind.

I need to breathe hard, to weep until It no longer has power to stay.

Pink it should be, but instead Its heart-wrenching blue ripped from endless grey.

Grief is hard, my soul is scraped.

Holding it close I absorb its cold shimmering tinge of an ice-white hue.

For sake of sanity I have to let go. Break its ice, melt its power that cuts with such clarity.

A soft, gentle cloud of pale blue enfolds me, it absorbs tears and hard, hate filled pain.

My grief remains, its birth through grey and blue, tendered with hope, time will soothe it for today.

Colours and thoughts are emotions that no longer have a say.

Used to forget Life’s strands that tangle and torment as they achingly portray.

I stand, I stumble, I fall. It hurts so I stay there, comforted  by inertia. If I move, if I think of all those ifs- I will remain there.

It is more than safe, not quite comfort, not quite living but it is enough for today.

Shut up, be quiet. I close my ears I would rather be deaf. My eyes refuse to open, I am stubborn- I hear you though.

With soft voice you poke and prod, your hand takes mine, your eyes capture mine- I cannot help but see.

With dust covered sheen, a blanket of grey, you take my hand and push it all away.

Don’t give me rhyme or reason, don’t tell me it’s ok. I push you away, but then beg you to stay.

The crumbs of my life remain, the pieces all there, a nudge, a shove and the picture falls into place.

A new dawn, a blind mans dream, the strands of the day -a remnant of my own decay.

Curiosity killed the cat, but in this case the Kat was going to kill curiosity! The cat in question was Kat, short for Katherine. 14 years old, friendless, a loner, a good girl who had never rebelled in her life. Today that was all about to change.
For as long as she could remember, they had said, keep out of the old graveyard...Naturally this had made her more curious about it, but she heeded their warnings, and stayed away from the forbidden place. Until one day she  decided to go and see for herself what the mystery was all about.
Rebellion it felt good, for once she was going to ignore the stuffy advice of adults. Surely they said these things because they had long outgrown any sense of adventure!

Certain that she remained unseen, she slipped past the gates. The path wound endlessly before her. Perspective seemed skewed in here. The old church had long since fallen down, stumps of gravestones all that remained. These were partially hidden by the grass, scraggly and overgrown it reached towards the sky, seeming to hide the layer of surface that she had a need to explore. Oh well, she thought, following paths never got you anywhere, except to the pre-planned place you were meant to reach. This was an adventure, and adventures were unplanned, so she closed her eyes and stepped from the path.
The ground squelched beneath her feet, moisture seeped into her shoes but she carried on, wet feet wouldn’t deter her. She pushed her way through the grass, as she made her way further into the ruins of the old graveyard. Expecting any minute to stumble onto something, some reason for all the warnings. But all she saw was more grass.
It was warm, though the month was October. Taking off her coat she continued on her way, beginning to think she, and every other child had been hoodwinked and that nothing ominous resided in this place. She had hoped for an Alice in wonderland moment, but all that seemed to be happening- was the grass was making her legs itch.

She had no idea how long she had been walking, and could have been walking in circles for all she knew. She was beginning to think this walking off the path led you nowhere. The further she walked, the higher the grass got. Stuck now, with grass seeming to crowd her in, she stopped and thought maybe she should have made a plan. Perhaps she should go back to the beginning and climb onto the gate, to see which way she should go. Too late she realised she had no idea which was the way back, or forward. Now all the warnings crowded into her imagination, she would be stranded here for ever until she dropped dead of starvation, and maybe that's how curiosity was supposed to have killed the cat!

***
Sat on a broken gravestone, she felt as though she was being disrespectful to the dead person, and was unable to stop her conscience from prickling! so much for rebelling. She needed to sit and think. Her watch remained stuck at the time she entered the graveyard, so she was clueless as to how long she'd been on this foolish trek. Feeling disillusioned she was ashamed to admit to herself that home was the only place she wanted to see. Searching through her coat pockets she found a half eaten pack of sweets, her sense of humour returning for a moment, she apologised to the person in the grave and offered him/her a sweet.
Her humour soon disappeared when someone turned the offer down. She nearly wet herself at hearing the disembodied voice talking to her. She swallowed the sweet whole, and nearly choked on it. A hand smacking her back helped her coughing fit, if not her paranoia.
'Budge up' a girl sat down beside her, saying ‘sorry for scaring you, but it's ages since someone came to play.'
She looked a young 15 and was dressed in a very, old fashioned way. Her hair parted and her fringe pinned back with a slide. She wore a cotton dress, leather sandals with ankle socks.  Kat thought she must be freezing, summer clothes in October! But then Kat didn’t exactly dress cool, or sensibly either. So she smiled back at her, relieved that she was no longer alone.
'Who are you?' she asked, ‘I’m Kat’
With a wicked laugh, the girl answered, 'I'm Charlotte, friends call me Lotte', pausing for a moment before lowering her eyes to the grave beneath them, she then added 'you are sitting on me.'

Had the sky suddenly darkened? was the grass now threatening in its height and density? Did Lotte appear sinister? A million thoughts rushed through her mind, but the girl's laughter brought her back from her flights of fear.
She shoved her off the gravestone, the girl landing in a heap in the crumpled grass.
'You didn't believe me did you?'
'Don't be stupid, I knew you were kidding' Kat replied. Though for a moment the atmosphere of this place had made her imagination run wild, and she had wondered if she was the ghost from the grave.

Feeling silly at falling for Lottie’s joke, but thankful that the tension had eased. Kat listened as Lotte told her, she had seen Kat come into the forbidden place, and decided to follow her. She made Kat laugh, she liked her though they had just met, and she hoped that she had found a friend.
Deciding it was time to go, they both thought it made sense to follow the path Lotte had followed through the crushed grass, to find their way back home. It's boring here anyway, it's just grass' Kat said as she stood and made her way to the place Lotte said she had entered from. But the grass circled them both, no gaps appeared, the grass a solid barrier to the outside world.

'Ok, I will have a sweet now' Lotte said, as they both sat back down on the stump of a gravestone. They sucked on the hard boiled sweets, enjoying the sweet, sharp flavour, as they talked about themselves. A friendship forming, the two girls both outsiders among their peers, joined now in their own group of two.
Above them the sky began to darken, Kat tried standing on the headstone, Lotte holding her. 'what can you see?'
'The grass goes on for ages, I can't see it's end, I'm sure I see a path though' Kat jumped down, She knelt on the floor feeling the grass, pushing its matted form aside until she found the stones that had once been a proper pathway.
No time for curiosity now. Back on the path she walked, holding her new friend's hand they both followed the broken paving stones, comfortable in each others company.
***
It was dark now and they still hadn’t found a way out. Kat was feeling afraid, and she could tell Lotte was too, though she kept up a brave front. The grass had thinned, they no longer had to force their way through it. But the only light was from the moon above, and that was shaded with dark clouds. Feeling hungry and cold, Kat was regretting ever coming into this place. She hated to admit it, but it seemed the adults were right.
Exhausted they sat down, not to form a new plan but with complete dejection. Kat had tried calling, but her voice disappeared into the night. She knew her parents would be worried and she knew she was in big trouble.
‘It looks like we are stuck here for the night’ Lotte at least was taking control. A light rain had begun to fall to add to their uncomfortable situation.
‘hmm, you think so’ Kat’s sense of humour was long gone now.
‘Come on, we’d better find somewhere dry at least’ Lotte said as she dragged Kat to her feet.
***
The crypt looked terrifying, but Kat followed Lotte into it. She was right at least it was dry. The coffins had been long ago been emptied; remains of them were smashed on the floor, and the ledges they had supposed to rest upon for ever . A doorway at the back of the crypt led to stairs that appeared to descend into eternal darkness. Kat had no intension of finding where or what they led to.
They settled onto one of the ledges, brushing the remnants of things unseen to the floor. Moonlight filtered in through slight gaps, leaving them cocooned in a dusty, grey/black fug. They settled down to wait the night out, talking in quiet whispers, hushed with fear, and respect of this place, and its past occupants.

A hand shook her gently, another hand over her mouth, ‘wake up, but don’t speak’ Lotte was pulling her from the ledge before she was even awake. Voices loud and brash approached. Male voices and the shrill, scared sound of a girl.
Lotte dragged her in the semi-darkness towards the stairs. It was pitch black.  She pulled the door behind them, shutting them both in a musty, dank smelling darkness. Huddled together, they crouched on the top step, afraid they would fall backwards into nothingness. Or worse be injured and at the mercy of whoever was out there.

The others were now in the crypt, light shone through the cracks in the door. They watched as two men dragged a girl into the middle of the crypt. One shut the outer door, and stood before it. The girl collapsed to her knees, her spirit seemed crushed.
A torch lit up the room casting it into light and dark, deep shadows cowered in the corners.
They had bottles of beer, one drank greedily from it. They were both drunk, but dangerous in the steadiness of their stance. The girl cowered on the floor. One pulled her head up by her hair, the other forcing a bottle of beer between her lips, laughed as he told her to drink. She tried to pull away, gagging as the liquid spilled down her throat, and down the front of her torn top. Without saying a single word, the man holding the bottle removed it from her mouth and slapped her hard across the face. ‘That’s for wasting our beer,’ he hit her again laughing as he said’ and that’s cos I wanted to’
Music began to thud, it’s sound harsh and tuneless.
Kat said ‘what are we going to do? we have to help her’
‘God, be quiet’ Lotte whispered.

Kat was terrified, she was regretted that curiosity had ever brought her here. Unable to tear her eyes from the gaps in the door, she watched as the girl was  raped on the floor. One laughed and called obscene comments, encouraging his friend.  Bile rose in her throat, feeling sick she tore her eyes away from the brutal scene playing through the cracks in the door.
The girl now lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. One of them kicked her and said she was rubbish, no fun at all. Ashamed that she hadn’t done anything to help, and at the powerlessness they felt, the girls formed a plan of sorts between them.

Lotte squeezed through the door, it was obvious she would be seen.
‘What do we have here? the fun begins again’ One of the men said as he made his way towards her. He was taken aback for a minute at what she wore, but that didn’t stop him. ‘You come to join the party?‘ he leered as he spoke. The other man said ‘she looks a bit young’ but he stayed where he was. Lotte looked dirty and scraggy after her stay in the crypt, she looked a lot younger than her 15 years and very fragile too. The first man said ’I like em young’ as he neared her.
The men wore loose jeans, with hoods on their tops. They swore, smoked and their scraggly hair remained hid by the hoods. The careless malevolence and cruelty was from another age to Kat as she watched them move towards Lotte. Their strange clothes and manner as different to her, as Lottie’s was to them.
They spoke in a strange way too, a sing song way, that had nothing nice about it. Kat could hardly understand what they meant, but their intentions were plain to read.
The girl remained on the floor, her face covered, her body huddled in a foetal shape. The man grabbed hold of Lotte, she spat in his face. She may have appeared fragile but she was not weak. His automatic reaction was to punch her, but his hand contacted thin air, Lotte now stood behind him.

Kat made her way out, they hadn’t noticed her, too shocked at how Lotte had managed to move so fast. They approached Lotte, murder shone in their eyes, no one had ever got away with spitting at them and lived. Their attention totally caught up with Lotte, they didn’t notice her.
Kat picked up a piece of broken stone and brought it crashing down on the man’s head. He sank to his knees, falling to the floor in a crumpled heap. Had she really hit him that hard?
They other man reacted swiftly, he changed direction and grabbed Kat. Holding her tight against him, his hand held a knife. ‘You f…ing bitches!’ he swore as he looked at Lotte. She merely smiled at him. Kat lost all feeling, her knees buckled, fear leaving her shocked and immobile.
Lotte pleaded, ‘don’t hurt her.’
He smiled as he drew the knife slowly down the side of Kat’s face, her blood following the pathway of the knife, the cut shallow, but it hurt. He held her tightly to him, his breath slivered over her skin as he tightened his grip of her, enjoying her terror. Tears fell, mingling with the blood.
She would have been mortified if she hadn’t been so terrified, as the gush of liquid fell down her legs, soaking into him as well as her. With disgust he plunged the knife into her chest, pushing it in deep. Lotte smiled, even laughed at his expression as Kat’s solid form dissolved. He held a hologram image of the girl, the knife sticking out of his own chest. He felt the pain as he fell to the floor.

Kat screamed, her cry one of despair. She had felt the knife enter her body, her soul cried out at the brutal slaying. Her mind connecting with heart and soul, it clicked back even as her body faded into an ethereal form. She saw herself being hurt by a man, watched as the scene played before her. The man differed from the present one, she watched with despair as he raped her, then he plunged a knife into her chest. Just as this man had tried to do. She stood now aware, unhurt but confused. Her form flickering in and out of existence.
The man lay dying on the floor. The abused girl kept her face hidden, seeing nothing. The other man lay in a crumpled heap, the blood had stopped flowing from his head wound. He breathed still.
Kat looked  at Lotte. Lotte said, ‘you wouldn’t accept it, wouldn’t play’
‘You  died by the hands of his father, just as I did by his grandfather’s hand. Now you  have your revenge, you can accept it and enjoy what your curiosity brought you. We can share the adventure, Lotte smiled, happy now, and said, ‘it as been so long since I had someone to play with, friends of my own’
Slowly she approached the dead man, she pulled at his hand and laughed with delight as the bewildered and frightened ghost of the dead man left his body. He looked  with terror at the small figure who smiled at him, and he didn’t laugh as she said, ‘we are all going to have such good fun, and just be thankful that you now have me to teach you how to treat a lady’

Three figures watched as the police and the paramedics came and removed the injured man and girl. The ghostly figures of the girls laughed as they watched them zip the dead man into a body bag. The bewildered ghost of the dead man, tried to tell them he wasn’t dead, he was alive, and went to climb into the ambulance to make them understand. He sunk to his knees as the ambulance and police cars left. He looked back at the girls, they waited patiently for him. They had such fun planned, they would leave him alone for a while, then they would take him on a journey through the underworld that was the graveyard. It seems curiosity never died, couldn’t be killed after all.

Sweet are my thoughts today. No grey clouds fill my sky. I love you, you love me-life is simple and discrete. No searching, no worries. No dark thoughts to mar my calm. I sit here, I smile as I think of your words. Each one tells me of love. Its not always easy, nor is it what I want to hear, but love allows you to do this.

Today I fly high, I soar, my heart trembles, my soul knows. I am of body, of mind, and my own person. But though I am complete... without you I feel incomplete- I write and rewrite this and yet it never lessens, I would miss the part of me that expands when you are mine. Emotions race across the surface of my mind, teasing, taunting-knowledge is my all. A door opens, a shape, a voice, the shiver I feel when my heart recognises you- it sees before my eyes do.

So sweet do I feel, so soft are my sighs, its love, it's real, it's me and it's you. Love, love, I wear the word out. Sentimentality renders me emotionally intact. You touch my cheek. Your eyes speak, but your voice is quiet. Soul searching we leave for tomorrow; for tonight it is time spent in the moment that counts. I love you, you love me. I say "show me how?" in this our very own sweet and special way.

Back to Windermere again, or Bowness on Windermere, the place you go through to get to the lake. It took 10 mins to get to the village, then if you could get past the shops without temptation dragging you into them, another 10 mins took you to the lake. We didn't find this footpath until the last day. It took you through a small wood. One side you could walk through-the other private property. It was very idyllic and didn't hurt your purse at all. I took the sunflower plant because I love them, it looked like it was in training to be a triffid. The cottage was at the end of the footpath, it was gorgeous. Oh to win the lottery!

Still smiling in spite of the rain and drizzle that was my constant companion. Thank heavens for my walking coat. And ponytail was the hairdo of the day, and evening.

The wood was magical, and not too slippy, I risked all stood at the edge of the stream. It was a drop down, that would have made a terrific photo, but my trusty boots stayed firmly on the edge.

I was on the lookout for bears, but obviously the picnic had been rearranged for a day when it didn't rain...

Occasionally the sun shone through gaps in the trees and made everything magical.