Dear you,
A treacherous path crossed counts for double in my books and a tail certainly helps things along when crossing those splendid falls. Cave of the Winds aptly named indeed and capable of shaking the steely nerves of the brave. Knees knocking together and head cocked back, I dared not to look down. At home in the treetops but not above waterfalls, I’m struck by the curious workings of my own primate brain. At one particularly hairy crossing, I climbed upon someone’s back and made for him a burdensome problem. Too scared of the dangerous terrain to care was I.
With a phrase ringing in my ear and the wind rattling my teeth, I’m looking for the familiar and coming up short.
Yours white-knuckled,
X
(Postcard collage title:The Niagara Heads-up.)
