I had a lovely weekend, though it could have been warmer as the three jumpers and jacket I was constantly wearing didn't help or stop my shaking and consistent complaining. There was also this mist in the air from the sprinkling rain that would sometimes ease up before soon shortly returning.
Usually we come here in the summer with floaties and go swimming in the river with a couple bevvies but it was nice to see this place so green and lively. The cold weather didn't stop many other people from doing the same either and camp spots ran out really quick.
We got there at about eight pm Friday night. We ate burnt calamari, had a few drinks before having an early night. In the morning we were welcomed by a thick fog that hovered over everything, creating this eerie feel that gave me the desire to sit down and attempt a short horror story using the setting as inspiration.
Surprisingly it let me pick it up which felt awesome to hold a wild creature, where I placed him down on the side of the road amongst some trees. To show me his gratitude he opened his mouth and I thought he was going to try and bite me.
It wasn't until we reached back to camp I realised he was probably opening his mouth for food and his small size was a result to him being a baby. I could barely sleep, hoping he would be fine and his mother would find him.
Even now I regret not taking him home but he was wild, so I thought it would have been frowned upon. But if Harry Potter can have a pet owl surely I could too.