It occurs to me that blogging is really good at capturing some emotions, and not quite as good at capturing others. Joy is one of the ones it?s harder to pin down afterwards ? it?s like sticking a pin through a captive butterfly and wondering why it isn?t as beautiful as when it was fluttering crookedly in the sunlight.
"It's here!" Paul screamed from the the rise of the hill.
"What?" I yelled from below.
"We found it! It's right here!"
I started jogging away from the rest of our little group of explorers, up Parliament Hill towards the rise that Paul was standing on, sillhouetted against a sky of impossible blues and reds. I permitted myself a healthy skepticism- this was the third time Paul had yelled that he'd found it this evening. Both other times he'd been kidding, but this time, something in his voice told me he was serious this time. My pulse quickened.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! It's awesome!"
I finally reached the rise, panting a little, and looked down into the valley below us. There it was, huge and blazing in the light of the setting sun. Strange to look on, at first. It seemed both very close and very far away at the same time, as though you might reach out and sit down on it with one hand, while tiny figures milled about its legs, as small as your fingertips.
"Let's go!"
Paul started running down the hill at full speed, and I started chasing him. The tall, dead-brown grass was knee high, so I couldn't see where my feet were landing. I kept my steps long and barely let the ball of my foot hit the ground before I bounded off it, into the next step. We ran faster and faster. Paul was pulling ahead of me so I started windmilling my arms like a kid to gain speed. Faster and faster. I hadn't ran this fast in a decade. I started laughing.
"I can't stop!" Paul yelled. I could barely hear him over the rushing of wind in my ears.
"Neither can I!" I said through my laughter and panting breaths.
"I've got an ideeaaaaa....." Paul veered sideways and into my path, dropping into a slide-tackle that sent me tumbling forward, rolling into the grass, over and over, tearing a huge me-shaped swathe through the foliage. I finally came to a rest on my back, gasping for dear life, staring at a streak of red cloud that cut viciously across the darkening sky. I breathed in sweet air, and felt happy in a way slightly different to every other happy that ever there was.
This is a 
Amm...not really related to the blog content at all (although naturally that was like 'awesome' :-)) but I find it really hard and distressing trying to read red text in a grey box.......
Although I do admit hovering over it helps!
Fixed.
Hard to read for me, too, Nikki. This harks back to the days when Adrian randomly selected colours for my blog in the hope that I'd one day get around to changing them. It's on my to do list.