That day we woke to a particularly sunny morning, with light that looked bright blue over the water and made the surrounding hills particularly green. After breakfast it was overcast and not raining, and we made our way down to the Fairy Pools. They looked unremarkable from the road, but revealed themselves as we approached. The mountains behind were striking, like a silver negative in film, dark shining grey with ridges in pale silver, positively surreal. There is copper in the mountains that flows down into this long series of waterfalls and pools, turning them deep turquoise green and blue. Some are quite still, others rippling, and then there are little falls, and larger ones, and one high, dramatic one you come upon suddenly. As we moved up over the rocks and hills, the sound of the water changed, at times very quiet and gently flowing like a little brook, at others falling in a hushing sort of sound, and then crashing loudly in the great falls. I climbed over the rocks to the very edge of the waterfall and sat looking back at the hills and down into those clear, vivid pools.