Dusk on the river

The night after the day after the night before when I failed to pace myself with the free booze.

Had a bit of a hungover day at work, even though we started at 11. It was amusing to come in and watch the rest of the staff come in, each person in various states of being, and almost unequivocally wearing shades - myself included. Most amusing of all was Elwyn, who had chosen to wear a Bermuda shirt, shorts and flip flops to accompany his eye-wear, and didn't remember most of last night - and certainly didn't recall telling the other memebers of staff various gems of wisdom, such as 'you need to grow into your face'.


After recovering fully from the night, I assisted with some group welcoming and some team games, before heading out for a stroll, where I, at this moment of next to no light, recalled to take a photo. The camera is poor, so let me describe the scene.

A ribbon a black silk snakes its way through the valley - a clear cut path though the trees, a way unspoken save for the odd gurgle and splutter of a fish. A crescent moon hangs in the sky, a slither of sliver cut out of the dark blue of the coming night. Further down the river, a small section of rapids can be seen, white tongues of foam jumping out of the black.

After this peaceful moment, and a few skimming stones that disappeared before I could count how many jumps I'd managed, I walked back home, and dissolved into sleep before any dreams could find me.