Lovely clouds

The day began with two wishes, the first that the clouds may form and the second that the path for the day was indeed recognisable as a path. The lone traveller knew well not to make a third wish for she had read too many tales where the third wish is so often the undoing of the previous two.
Under the blazing 10 o’clock sun she entered the forgiving shade of the evergreen beech trees that dominate the landscape in these parts. Winding her way up a most delightfully well formed path with bridges over the turquoise rivers she failed to notice herself passing through a veil between worlds until she emerged at the top of the tree line. In this world clouds covered the sky and the cool temperatures made her legs strong and her footsteps sure and true. The path took her onwards and upwards, around mountains with new vistas opening around each curve, each one more glorious than the last. Finally she entered the world of the cold mists which she wrapped around herself as if it were a favourite blanket from home, savouring every droplet of water that landed on her brow.
Upon reaching the summit, much to her delight, there was a shelter in which to pause for some sustenance before embarking on the journey downwards.
Having made good time she was in no hurry to arrive at the campsite hidden below the tree line in the realm where the sandflies reign supreme so she enjoyed a leisurely journey down trekking over valleys formed by ancient glaciers.