Screech Therapy.

Camping is best when it's done wild. This weekend me, Ashley and her younger brother Liam escaped the city and, well, any form of civilisation all together. We camped in the middle of no-mans land in the Brecon Beacons. Wanting to be hidden but also wishing to wake up to a breathe taking view, we pitched our tent on the edge of a very ominous forest upon a rather steep hill - A decision we later regretted when we woke up in a collective lump at the bottom of the tent. It was pretty cold, wet, muddy but breathtakingly beautiful. A true wilderness adventure.

By the time we had got pitched perilously upon the hillside it was drawing dark and Liam hadn't the spirit in him anymore to venture to the top of the hill. So with Ashley staying behind to look out for him, I traipsed on up to the highland peak alone. The wind was raging something of a gale at me and dusk was creeping in fast, but adventurous things like that are what I go for.

On top I could see for absolutely miles around and see there was practically nothing to be seen. I was truly alone, even Ashley and Liam were now pretty far behind me and with the wind blowing like it was, nobody would be able to hear me. If I hurt myself here, I would be truly screwed. So what did I do? Climb the Cairn of course, and then on top, lean my full body weight into the wind, which was powerful enough to support my load.

At that point a bird, a swift I believe, sailed through the air and floated in front of me for a moment. If he had eyebrows, he was probably raising one of them at me. I had spotted them a few times from a distance walking up the hill - when they twist on their sides and fly by with wings fully stretched vertically they look like a ninja running super fast across the field. It tripped me out a few times and I thought I was loosing it, until Ashley saw the same. Here, up close, they were rather cute.

Before I made my way back to base-camp, I screamed at the top of my voice. This was nothing out of frustration, but simply because I could. Muffled by the wind, I knew no one could hear me, even if they was someone around. I found it ridiculously therapeutic, so after a minute of catching my breathe, I screamed again. And again. It was almost a challenge, how loud could I scream, could I actually catch someone's attention? I couldn't, and that sent a shiver down my spine. Being practically pitch black, I decided to head back, treading carefully for I knew if I fell here, there would be nobody about to help me back up.