Doubt follows me up a mountainside, and nearly leaves me there at the summit, in amongst thick forest and snow-blanketed trails.
Slalom paths up to the top, in zigs and zags, passing secret waterfalls and fallen-down trees, as an occasional breeze drops in to frequently mock me.
I head around the whole of Mount Heart Attack and then down the final slope back to my waiting car, which takes me onwards to Nancy.
Where I’m driving through busy city streets and through the park gates to get to my Georgian townhouse for the night, just beyond the main square.
It’s a place alive with possibilities, almost all of which are dripping in gold.
It’s an outstanding contrast from the doubt of the day to the confidence of the evening.
On the outdoor terrace of a small city cafe, I take a beer in the shadow of an imposing church, illuminated by hidden lights … wondering as usual how and why I’m here.
An Outside World 