For Charity?

The day after. I'm hazy. Lola was such a great girl. And I know she had a fine adventure, also now she knows where I live ... I guess. And she chose the older of the two beds - even she's not sure about the Simba. We woke up around five, initially, to take her for a wee wee and poo poo. Down eleven floors. She wouldn't go in the lift coated in vomit - some heroin affair I feel - therefore I sent it down empty and called the, somewhat cleaner, second lift. These lifts have probably witnessed some bizarre rituals, but maybe taking a dog down to the ground floor for ablutions wasn't the worst event in their history?

This is my home Lola and you are the first female I've had in my flat ... The first for so long I've forgotten the date of the previous moment. Obviously this was not carnal, and the other occasions weren't much either! This event was Canine-al.

It was a pretty simple walk from Otley to Ilkley, on the left bank, missing out the Moor and a sodden threat because I really couldn't stomach another day of soaked shoes, socks and clothes. British summer time ... Moan moan moan ... It is what it is. I wouldn't trade it for Perth WA's relentless summer of 40+ or southern Europe's equally slamming summers. Rain is essential to us. It keeps things on the roadside, in gardens and over the fields, moors, etc, green and sweet. A girl I once shared a coach journey with, from London to Leeds, had come from California and was blown away by how green everything was. Yup it's a green and pleasant land, when Boris and his cronies aren't ruining everything else.

Just short of two hundred and twenty miles (around 210 really) and eleven days to cover a very varied landscape. However the Moors don't do me any favours. Bleak. The coast enthuses me and I love following river courses. The birds, fishes, insects and greenery, and the wide wide sea. All this water. Water makes me. Something which seems simple is far from it. Hydrogen and Oxygen: what a holy alliance! It is a triumvirate more glorious than any the Roman Republic could conjure. It never stops flowing, rolling, smashing; bringing humanity low, helpless, drowning. We are so trivial alongside it. It is truly the wonder of my existence.

The walk was tiring. The cost was too much for me. The are much cheaper counties to walk in. Yes I need a one man tent (perhaps selling it was a mistake)? But campsites are still way over budget. How is it I love nature but can't wild camp? It's a paradox. I've never been totally self-sufficient, but I am not scared of nature. It's been my companion for many years. It's made me calm and happy. It's prevented my death.

Between Lola and nature I've managed to survive the voice which questions why I carry this cross onwards, ever, dragging me into the Earth which formed me. Isn't is easy to end it all? Not for me. Never for me. I'll hang on just long enough to see beyond this pain I am surrounded within. These are clouds and they are nothing: meer appearance; how I am desperate to banish them; rise above.