The barely-trodden path was bordered by thick bracken, with bees lazily zipping between heather flowers. My legs started to ache about halfway up and I was panting like crazy from the adrenaline and exertion. I reached the top and looked out over the view as the cloud shadows raced away and the sun coloured in the landscape. Here, alone, on top of the hill, heart racing and wind whispering in my ears, was a perfect moment.
I walked to the end of the ridge and sat down to look at the panorama through my binoculars. Kites and buzzards circled in the thermals from the lunchtime sun. Harvesters kicked up yellow dust as they reaped, occasional bonfires thrust grey columns into the sky. I drank it all in, as far as the eye could see, sating my thirst for the great outdoors.
So absorbed was I in this visual feast, I hadn't spotted a figure walking up the hill in front of me. As it got nearer I could make out solid boots, a light Tilley and rucksack straps; closer still, near the top when they stopped to rest and turned to take in the view, I could see curves and long dark hair. She nodded and smiled as she approached, passing me to see the sights from the other side of the hill.
I unpacked my lunch and a bottle of ale and began to recharge in the glorious sunshine. After a few minutes I heard a shuffling behind me and a voice piped "Mind if I join you?"
We sat next to each other, the wind toying with her hair while we ate our lunches and enjoyed the sightly view. She gracefully accepted half of my beer and we talked genially about where we'd been that day, our lives, families and friends. From her smiles and open conversation I really felt like we were getting along.
Once fed, we packed and compared maps to see where we were headed. When she abandoned her route and accompanied me on mine, I got an unusual twisting in my stomach, but that didn't stop me from smiling at her as we walked down the side of the hill, together.
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