“There is a lot of activity up them tall hills, be that from this planet here or maybe from somewhere else, who knows, but still quite interested in finding that out am I, so guess, it’s time to fly or hike, up that slippery slope of a hill” Gun Roswell
The hill up ahead, strong and bold, standing tall, right there in front of us, weary travellers, watching in awe as the stories told, coming alive right in front of us. The tales of myths recited of others coming to this place, some of them like us, some more exotic and from far away places. But whatever the case or rather the truth behind all the colourful tales told, most of us here now standing below, were already sold at well, at “this is an odd tale” kind of a pitch. So, taking a hike towards this gorgeous rock we, the adventurers never intend to stop, until reaching that very top and finding out for our very selves, whether these storied told are as true as those who did the sales. Soon enough, climbing up the very rocky face of the tall, tall hill, trying to reach the perfect spot to observe and take in, all the sights below and those, shown also from above, the skies, the space and all of it out there, which ever way eyes can see and ears can hear, all of it in front of us and then, maybe, if we are lucky, we will get to meet those other travellers, from the very beyond, and exchange stories of the Sighting Hill.