Acid Rain by R.D Rhodes (literature books to read .txt) 📗

forced to move. Otherwise I couldn’t fathom why anyone would rather live in a town or a city, and be watched over and ruled while living in a box, when they could be out here? I didn’t know. All I knew is that this was beautiful.

I finished my sandwich and walked down into the open walls, onto the flat, soft surface inside. What did they do? What did they think about? I wondered. I pictured a straw and feather bed, and a peat fire with a black kettle hanging over it. I ran my fingers up and down the tightly packed stones. They actually made these homes themselves. They were actually independent. And now we had gone so far the other way.

Harry came down, then we made our way back to the track and kept on along the loch under the sprawling trees, the slope of the hills to our right. We soon came to a stream, and had to take off our socks and shoes and wade through, then the glen became thinner, the mountains curved in, and the path led us around the top of the loch. We followed it round the other side of the water, then a hundred yards along, until we decided to turn off into the woods.

The silent birches and oaks were thick about us. The ground climbed up, away from the road, and we crunched on up the hill. Some golden leaves clung onto the trees, some fallen ones peppered the snow. We carried on up. Suddenly, a little wind got in, and the birches began to hush and sway back and forth. A strange feeling came over me. There was a palpable change in atmosphere. I sensed some sort of strange presence. The trees sounded like they were whispering to each other.

I looked at Harry, stunned. “Can you feel that?” I asked quietly.

His open mouth and eyes confirmed that he did.

A shiver ran up my spine.

“It’s like, we’ve gone through a portal.” He said.

We stood still. The trees swept with greater thrust and their whispering got louder.

Harry moved on first. We dug our feet up the slope. I heard the sound of running water. The slope steepened, then a number of sprawling branches blocked us off. We clambered through, and soon the hill flattened out in a little groove.

I surveyed the ground and the area around us. “This looks good.” I said.

Chapter 43

W e dropped the bags and checked the location. It seemed ideal. There was a slight slope for runoff rain, the stream nearby looked pure and clean, and we were hidden well away from the road. From five yards down, through a break in the trees, we could even see right across the loch to the western mountains.

“What a view, eh?” I said.

Harry stood at my side, a few inches lower, “Yeah. How much would you have to pay to get a house with a view like this!”

“Thirty years busting your ass. And we’ve got it for free. Get the stove out, I’m starving.”

“Will we get the tent set up first?”

We pitched it up. Harry laid out our things inside while I tied the guy ropes around a couple of nearby trees. I stood back. The side canvas was taught and rigid. The roof firm, the rain would bounce right off it. I looped the last pegs through and pushed them down under my foot. I gazed around at the miles of forest- the tent’s dark green didn’t look at all out of place.

I zipped open the door. Harry was sitting up heating a pot of water on the stove. The sleeping bags were set out just as before- the good, four-season ones on top of the cheaper ones that were acting as a carpet. Jumpers were folded for pillows, and the rucksacks lay evenly down the sides. It was cosy. I sat down next to him.

The water started to boil and he threw a couple of teabags in. “What was that all about, eh? That atmosphere?”

“I know,” I said. “There’s a definite energy here.” I took the cup he offered. “Do you think this is maybe a former druid sight?”

“I dunno. Could be. Would they have gone halfway up a big hill like this?”

“Well, they carried boulders all the way from Wales to Stonehenge, so who knows.”

I sipped the green tea while he poured his own. “Ah, a nice hot drink. You can’t beat it after a walk like that.”

Harry lifted his own cup and took a sip. He closed his eyes contentedly, and a gentle smiled played on the corners of his lips.  “Do you think we’ll be happy here?” he said.

“I’m already happy.” I said.

“Haha. Good!”

“What do you want to do after this?”

“Hmm, just chill out. Maybe go for a wander later on?”

“Cool.”

“Ahh, that’s so good.” he put his cup down and let his body recline, resting his head on the jumper pillow.

I lay back on my own, and relaxed. We stared up through the dome in the peaceful quiet. The breeze gently rustled the leaves. The stream gurgled away harmoniously. It was like an orchestra performing just for us.

“Oh, this is so good,” Harry almost whispered. “I’d rather be here than be anywhere else in the world.”

After our break we descended the hill, reaching the road about a quarter-mile up from where we’d left it. I pointed to an old pine tree that was bent over like an old man. “Remember that tree.” I said. “We won’t get lost.”

“Good idea.” Harry replied.

We skirted the road through the woods and then fifty yards along stepped into the unbroken snow. We lunged across into the trees beyond, carefully going down the uneven ground. Lichen hung like Christmas tinsel from the many branches.

“Pretty cool, eh?” Harry said from behind me.

“Yeah.