[NetBehaviour] up back of Heaven

Simon Mclennan mclennanfilm at gmail.com
Tue Aug 23 23:41:13 CEST 2022


Anyway it was pretty bloody funny, we  were up the back of Heaven,
you know, sort of past the cloudy bits then up into the hinterlands...

Earlier on, upon arrival in this heavenly land, an official looking bloke
had told me to pass right on through, but indicated that
I should carry on up the dusty path. His great red turban stood out against
a cerulean sky
shot through with salmon pink clouds tinged with a darker orange fading
into burnt umber and
smoky quartz.

I nodded to the guide in the big hat and chugged along past him smiling like
a little train, puffing slightly from the increasing gradient, which
flattened out with
the lungs easing off as the hilly region descended into a great plain
fringed by
gum trees and distant hills fading up and up until they disappeared, or
merged with
the ochre sky.

We were bemused by the gentle smell of cloves, mixed with beetroot.
Someone had been painting with this admixture ,an ink, trad made from
beetroot
juice, gum arabic and cloves - to preserve.
A lovely pinky smell, delicate and rooty, slightly pungent with a hint of
putrescence.

We lolled about on the turf, lying on our sides as we chatted, confident we
might have
passed some kind of test in life, causing us to puff out our cheeks
pompously!
Ha ha how confident we were in those days.

After an indeterminate time a chap dressed head to toe in denim, arrived at
the little camp.
Beckoning to us he set off towards the hills.
He set a fast pace and we followed, grabbing our turbans and hitching up
our dinner jackets and smoothing our taffeta dresses as we legged it
after his loyal highness, the heavenly one, god or whatever you want to
call him.

We did chuckle at the way it had turned out, our surprise showed on our
beaming faces.
A nice little party we made crossing the plain and ascending into the
foothills, then bending deeply as we climbed higher into the yellow hills...

TBC,

S
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