Then a tune swept inside his head, one from before he could remember - one that his grandmother or great aunt had sung to him as a baby and he tapped his foot.
But his other foot felt it wanted to join in too and so he hummed a tune out loud, one that had made him happy as a boy.
Now he was dancing a little jig at the top of that hill and laughing and laughing and laughing still.
Then he saw his friend, his pal, someone he had known from the start of his life, make his way to the top of the hill and his friend stood beside him and faced the sun.
And his pal started humming a tune that he knew as a boy and they both danced a jig and both laughed and cried for all they had seen and all they had heard in their lives.
When the townsfolk heard the commotion from the hilltop, they ran to see what all the noise was about.
Then they too started to dance and laugh and celebrate all that was good about life.
All of the townsfolk and all of their friends sang the same glorious song to the sky.
And each of them realised that with their friends by their sides, singing and dancing, they were the luckiest people alive.
bobby stevenson 2013