Standing on a craggy ledge, fearfully unstable, dangerously high. Below me lies a small expanse of blue grey stone coloured water. Still and flat like a slab of granite in contrast to the pale dusty orange rocks strewn all around outside the water. A few ripples flutter here and there as errant breezes swish this way and that, through the craggy landscape. I look up and around at the stunning rawness of the surrounding rock be-speckled brush. Cliffs and steep slopes reach up to the utterly deep flatness of the blue blue sky.
My gaze drops again into this little Eden cut through the mountains. Inside the canyon are trees and lush bush, pools of grey blue water and patches of white rush; as the water tumbles from pool to stream and into yet other pools. Bright sun and patches of shadow highlight and hide patches; seemingly randomly, like a tabby cat.
I look at my feet and the water below, straighten myself into a standing position and loose my hand from the adjacent rock. I feel unstable, almost wobble. It doesn’t really matter now. A rush of mild panic as I commit, turns into a burst of pre-adrenaline excitement. I brace, bend my knees slightly and tip forward. My head goes over I straighten my legs and launch forward and over to gravity.