I feel tiny.
That's the overriding sentiment when I have the (amazing and life-enriching) opportunity to be taken into the mountains by my Sis and Marcel.
This was a good old hike along a route in Hasliberg where the old quandry still exists; "should I look where my feet are landing, or can I drink in the utter majesty of the surroundings".
Gladly, I appear to have managed my eyeball/ footfall ratios well, as I'm able to post whilst not being a) crippled, b) jaded or c) dead at the bottom of a cliff.
Bloody marvellous. These days are for life an a life well lived.