Flying high

I seize the chilling wire with my pasty white knuckles and tender fingers as I see tinted colours swerving through the trees. I brace myself for another descending trip down the angled, rugged rope. My heart pounds as I gaze down at the concaving ground. I grasp the cable for the final time as I anxiously let go and fly though the husky chilled air. I unsteadily transfer my weight onto the unlevelled platform as I gasp a breath. A breath of relief.