(Esther gave us permission to share an email with you that she wrote to one of her friends.)
I probably won’t be able to finish this e-mail for a little while, it being Christmas eve and all, so my todays won’t be todays, but anyway… You will never guess what I did today!!!! I have to tell you the whole story. Sit back and relax. Close your eyes and let this legendary epic sink in.
Let your imagination wander. In your mind’s eye, imagine me sitting passively, checking the computer for new e-mails. As I start to read yours, my dad and Simon walk in and start packing backpacks with food. They wind up fishing reels and hooks. I am completely enraptured in your exciting e-mail, of course, so I don’t pay much attention to what they are doing. I spin around in our swivel chair as my dad says my (ahem, ahem) mellifluous name. He tells me cordially that they are going on a “fishing trip” and that if I wish, I may join them. I think..Hmmmmm..That sounds like fun. I really should get out of the house…and so, I agreed to depart with them. After packing another reel and a sandwich for lunch, we headed off. Little did I know where this venture would lead me. dun, dun, dun, dun.
So, we were on our way. The path was smooth for a while and then, whoop! It was as if a chasm opened up it’s leering mouth and grinned maliciously as we plummeted into it’s depths. Up and down we went. In some of the spots, our footholds were as tall as me. I had to pull myself up and over these, which is quite a challenge for someone with no biceps. I’m a wimp, I must confess. I think I did pretty well, though, considering I kept up to everyone else and I was the only girl. We continued on with this, climbing up and down, crossing rotting bridges swinging perilously high over rushing torrents of icy water and sharp rocks. We literally crossed over a mountain. Finally we arrived at our designated fishing spot. We got out our reels and prepared to face the fish. It was then that I discovered that I knew nothing whatsoever about fishing. I had gone fishing twice, but that was when I was quite young and my dad had done everything for me. After being taught the intricate art of the fish hook knot. A search for bait produced two worms. My dad, being the gentleman he is, applied the worms to the hook. I though, for a moment, I heard from the depths of the earth, mournful cries of “Murderer!” (I hate to see any creature, no matter how insignificant, delt an untimely death.)
On the way back, while we were crossing that rotting old vine bridge, one of my feet fell through a gap in the vines. Aaaaaaaaah! Well, that’s not important, but I had to say it anyway. 🙂
We (our guide left, so it was just my dad, Simon, and I) stopped at our waterhole before we went home. Oh, after all that hiking, it felt WONDERFUL! I have to show you pictures, but the water was so cool and the sun was out and there was a breeze. The waterfall was majestic. I could have stayed forever. We swam and splashed and laughed. It was paradise. I did leave, though. Otherwise you wouldn’t be reading this e-mail. 🙂
Our expedition yielded no fish, and, even today, I believe that the fish of that area are laughing in their triumph. But truly, it is us who triumph. We have conquered the mountain, the savage branches, the winding trails, and the exigent art of the fish hook knot. Triumph. We came, we saw, we conquered.
Well, that is my tale. Hope you don’t find it too long or boring. Well, I’d better go. Tell me all about your Christmas when you can, ok?
Esther