my cousin was in town & she wanted to find wordsworth’s daffodils, so we went hiking to the lake district. we started with coffee in ambleside:
then we followed our eloquent guidebook, which warned us to look out for mountain drama
we missed the drama, but experienced our own by being quite unprepared for the rain. it rained a lot. but it was still pretty:
then we got lost because our guidebook spent more time talking about ‘feeling evoked’ and ‘mountain drama’ than directions. at one point it told us to ‘bear left and descend into a boggy hollow’. boggy hollow is irish slang for vagina. hm…
but we made our own paths and saw a deer. he seemed pretty surprised to see humans there:
then the sun came out so we stopped to dry our socks
later, we finally re-joined the real-people-path
we returned to town, had some food, and then waited for a train to get home. someone’s feet stank on the train so we kept accusing each other, but surprisingly it was someone else. if i was religious or observed thanksgiving i would give thanks for dry socks. dry socks are amazing.