I creak up the track towards the Dewerstone at slug-pace, dreaming of the calming effect of cold river water on my back injury. It’s a gorgeous day of sunshine and glittering cascades. The pool refracts light the colour of new leaves and the roar of the falls blitzes my ears as I doggy paddle. Teri and Jane slide down the pudding rock and clamber through the keyhole, while Honey plays her Dewerstone game of dropping her found tennis ball from the ledge fifteen feet above, before scrabbling down and swimming over to collect it from the eddy, over and over again. I bob to the falls while a grey wagtail bobs on a nearby rock. I clamber out refreshed and watch Teri floating her worries away. She shouts a good while later that she can’t bring herself to get out.