The Screes slant at an improbable angle up from the stilly water. Ralph, the mountain guide, told us about a German girl who was lost from the youth hostel a few years ago. They found her body more than a year later on the Screes. On the hike, Ralph talked about people falling, dying, getting lost in the mist. He wasn’t trying to frighten the students, just giving them information.
It’s so quiet here. There’s no sound of traffic, just incredible birdsong early in the morning, and the bleating of sheep. The mist cleared in the morning and the lake was still and clear as glass. The doubled world of sky-mountain-trees and lake bottom was an obviously magical place—but the magic was nature, not Faerie. (2003)
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