Morning run down the mountain, into the town. Filled the ruck with provisions, and walked back up.
Thick grey fog over the valley on the way in. Had the sense of walking from the clear and open place into the foggy confusion. When you spend a week or so away from the towns, walking into the street plan does bring a cloud on the mind. You can almost feel the energies of the place. Harmless town, quite nice in places. Suspect it would be the same anywhere. On the return, the mist was general.
Mountain in view on the return, solid pack of snow now established at the top. Summit appears to be right at the treeline, but in this part of the world, it's hard to tell. The mountains in southern Bosnia and Montenegro (several evil names) appear to be mostly without vegetation for most of the peak. There are summit routes to the one here, but without a vehicle, it looks like it would require a starting time well before dawn.
Surprised to find some of the characters in Against the Day in the same coordinates I've been through of late. Decided to pick it up out of the generic ereader folder, and put it back on the top, so I can finish. The earlier time or two I made the pugnacious slog through, I hadn't yet set my foot on these mountains. Started this read in the cafes of Belgrade a few months back (I think after visiting the House of Flowers, which is now the House of Small Pebbles) but there have been many literary detours and frolics in the interval.