Ribbons of crystal clear water poured over the edge of the escarpment in a gentle arc, falling into a roaring and foaming cascade among the rocks, as black as onyx, before breaking onto them and disappearing among the white surf, which poured into an vast sheet of water so transparent that you could see every pebble, every braid of green seaweed waving in the current against a background of multicoloured mosaic.
Both banks were lined in a carpet of knotweed, among which a dipper bustled, splashing and proudly exposing the white ruffles on her neck. Over the knotweed, bushes shimmered with green hues, looking brown and ocher on the background of spruce trees, which seemed to be sprinkled with silver powder.
“Truly,” Dandelion sighed. “It is beautiful here.”
A great dark trout tried to
