Four
The rusty metal walkway clattered as her shoes skipped along. Her skin tingled from the crisp alpine air and she breathed in deeply, exhilerated by the coldness. All around was the beautiful, squat landscape of the high country. Life everywhere was hardy, thick and hugging low to the land; clinging for life against unforgiving elements. Flannel flowers sprouted up against lichen covered boulders, and great thick snow gums grew twisted out of thick scrub, rainbow trunks freshly stripped of bark. A stream bubbled along, bolstered by freshly melted snow, while sunlight skipped and sparkled across crystalline waters. As they drew nearer to the stream, she itched to take her socks and shoes off and dip her toes in the water. To her delight, they veered off the track, through the scrub to sit on the boulders around the stream. Her father put the backpack on the ground with a thud and sat to rifle through it. She found a small boulder, just her size, and began working at her shoes. Fi