Changes

Before and after, such contrast.
There I was, meandering along the valley, watching the world slide by, enjoying the view, enjoying the gentle tumble of everyday life.
I could see myself, reflected.
Then I was falling down a cliffface, hitting every rock and stick on the way, grabbing and grasping at grass growing on the side.
Who the fuck though a weir was a good idea?

There was more oxygen, adrenaline, excitement. No reflection of ourselves, we couldn't see what we were doing.

Then it stopped. The gentle tumble started again.
Strangely similar, yet profoundly changed.

Was it worth it?
Only the weir-builder can answer that one.

On then, to the inevitable sea.