Looking back, the water as always finds its way back to the sea, the noise of the rain covers all the normal sounds of the world and we climb out of the valley.

In a way, we walk into the past. Following an old road dipping along in the narrows between fields, the cobbles loose underfoot after years of neglect. We are the new followers. Only for the walking, being under the sky, knowing the weather from inside.

Clouds have descended to make everything monochrome, we walk, footstep after footstep. Single file, past the edge of the river, behind the waterfall, and a return to life. Footsteps, tracing a path along history.