A thick blanket of vapour covered the town in an angry grey.
In its defiance we still went up the mountain.
The drive was long. We climbed its face,
turning carefully at every hairpin.
Little by little we entered the mist.
The fog became so thick we could only see just see the road in front of us.
Suddenly we were numbed by a burst of light.
Just like possoms in the headlights we were all still seeing stars.
Where were we?
We’d taken the stairway to heaven.
A sea of marshmallow delight,
or a bubble bath in a valley of mountains.