Gone When I’m Dead
Gripping the edge of mountains and looking down: Masada when I was 13, belly-crawling to the edge to see a disappointing stretch of sand; Scafell, in a snowstorm, huddling in a lee with friends before the clouds broke; Striding Edge, in the snow, where the hunter and his horse fell; the Roaches, in the snow, […]
{funambulism} 