Dawn chorus of rain – chortle of drainpipe, the irregular rhythm of the roof, the drizzling trees.
Chance of rain: 60%.
The line at the visitors’ centre, dripping umbrellas: ‘What can you do here in the rain?’
The lower fall was a steady trickle – a leak, really – sliding down the face of the cliff. Making noise, but not much more than the rain dripping from the trees.
Along the track, I saw a buck grazing by the creek bed.
The museum’s ‘please touch’ section included a scoop-shaped basket with a rough surface, used to remove skins from acorns – a bearskin pouch, unlike any other fur I’ve touched, even rougher/pricklier than I expected, and quite pale – and a deerskin, boiled in a mixture including deer brains, softening the skin and making it impervious to rain.