I knew I was back on an English hill top when I stood by the
trig point looking across a sea of knee high heather in a howling gale. The only thing that was missing was the chill
factor as, the temperature was unseasonably warm meaning the wind hadn’t frozen my extremities, as
usually happens.
I love the wide open spaces of boggy, tussocky moorland that
seem to be unique to this part of the world. To tramp across rough ground, face
into the wind, is one of my greatest pleasures and something I appreciate every
time I’m out there!
No comments:
Post a Comment