Going out with joy

This was a year of windfalls lying dense across our route,
While water seemed bamboozled as to where it ought to flow!
And scary riverbanks collapsed and we could hardly put
A cautious boot down safely in the chancy mud or snow;
But we still went out with joy!

In March a hardy remnant of the Walking Club’s elite
Battled down Great Western Road towards the Forth canal,
And trudged along to Clydebank in a horizontal sleet,
Where we saw in growing disbelief a boat come up the mall!
But we still went out with joy!

It was stottin down in torrents as we huddled in the loo,
In the middle of the forest on Loch Drunkie’s windswept shores;
We predicted sodden sarnies till a Scout Hut hoved in view,
And we sat in little puddles and bemoaned the great outdoors;
But we still went out with joy!

And when we reached Glencoe the mist was swirling round our ears;
We could hardly see our laces let alone the Devil’s Stair!
And even Tinto seemed more tempting to those early pioneers
Than this wipe-out, white-out, moisty, and mysterious affair!
But we still went out with joy.

But when we least expected it, the sun bewitched our way!
It shone along Glen Orchy and on Endrick’s butterflies;
There were snowdrops down the Esk – and along the waterway;
Ans a swan-encirled Gartmorn Dam reflected azure skies;
So we still go out with joy!

And so we walk in company along life’s winding trail;
With friendship’s hand we overcome all obstacles and fears:
Among the windswept mountains or along the primrose dale,
The ups and downs they matter not throughout our aging years,
And we shall go home with joy.