The path from Risley Hall down into the Fall Creek gorge (see Autumn Gorge, on the Risley website) is steep, stony, needs work. Where the path crosses the first runoff, a stone slab that formed a tiny footbridge has fallen into a narrow channel lined with crumbling stonework, choked with rubble. The bridge seems a lost cause, but if I’d brought tools, I could happily spend the afternoon down here, grading the path, clearing brush and fallen trees.
Today though, we’ve brought only Parni’s camera, my tripod, a notebook, a pen. Half an hour, several photos, and my reservations about carrying a tripod are forgotten; already it seems indispensable again.
Making my way along the water’s edge, stopping now and then to look up at the underside of the
Across a wide sunny expanse of ledge, a mosaic whose meaning eludes me for a moment: Then the many small bits of shale coalesce, become big letters spelling out a greeting to be read from above: HEY ANDREW.
A last turning of the gorge, and our walk upstream ends at
M. John Harrison is blogging again, this time at the Ambient Hotel.