Within seconds of folding my cards up I saw a little robot, holding out two welcoming arms. Until you read the story, there is not much else to say. You can see my set up below.
My folded up cards for my creative challenge.
I planned to write about my job this week. But furlough trashed that avenue. No matter. You will have to hear my adventures as a temp another time.
The way through this is to be positive. Distracted. I cut back on my expenses with ease. When you spend your days juggling you do not have many overheads. Plus my walks are back. No time for cowardice.
So instead I today is about Slidey Rock.
There is a famous rock in Clifton which many know from childhood. I know that sounds weird. But here is a link on the Visit Bristol page for a few feet of exposed stone.
Slidey Rock is a natural slide formed on the gentle cliff side of Clifton Village. One that you can sit at the top of, and use the lack of friction to scoot down. Ignore the equipment at nearby playgrounds. If you grew up nearby, this was your top choice for gravity based fun.
I guess part of the enjoyment is the queasy notion of teetering on the edge of the Gorge. I'd like to say there is no chance of injury, but this is still a bit of rock on the side of a hill.
On the first walk after my interlude, I hopped across the fence, and sat on that famous piece of stone. It was hot and smooth against my legs, almost magnetic.
I remembered coming here at some point in primary school. Part of a big gang of birthday party children, Slidey Rock the main activity.
This cannot be correct, but in my mind there were over fifty of us, pushing and shoving in a loose queue that snaked down the hill. The ones at the back are in the frills of Victiorian dress, or the rough woolen home made jumpers of fifty years ago. Fiddles and accordions blare out.
In the present no one else but me sits on that warm grey surface. But for a moment a huge figure appears above the Suspension bridge. His eyes were bigger than the card than ran alongs the roads, bared teeth the length of coffins. It raised a massive axe in hand, the blade an asteroid of gleaming iron, the gnarled wooden handle formed of whole trees.
The giant vanishes before the tool slams into the rock. Before I can confirm he was not from my imagination.
No sliding down the hill today.
I am tuning into something. I cannot see the full picture yet, but the results are mounting up. My search continues.
