I'd rather be...
Wrapped up in the semi-secureness of my harness, pressing toe tops into gum-sized foot holds,
or digging hands and feet into the bark of an amenable tree, fearlessly mounting branch after branch, with a higher destination in mind.
I'd rather be palming sheer surfaces and finding the subtle balance with a foot fly that keeps your hips on the wall and your general motion in an upward direction. (This is me, in Sport Park up the canyon.)I'd even rather be at Movement, juggling the Harper's Bazaar-reading city-bred girl with the chalky-palmed altitude junky.
But mostly I'd rather be somewhere high high up, taking pictures at the top of the world,
communing with the sunshine and the clouds and the tops of earthly things and contemplating the littleness of all that lies beneath us.