Every photograph tells a story.
The end of a day of high adventure under a clear blue sky. The crunch of snow under miles of journeying across a high plateau. The sparkling grains of snow under a fiery yet chillingly cold sunset.
‘Home’ was below – a good 3000 feet below – so there was still ‘work’ to be done. Yet who does not pause a while to watch the winter’s evening sun sink below the line of the mountains, signalling the end of the day and saying that now is the time for people to scurry back down to the big glen below? Possibly this was the best moment of the day; most mountain folk having already departed the high plateau in favour of the warmth of civilisation far below. We were alone on the hill, just us, sun and snow.
With a hint of reluctance we journey on and down. The greens and browns of the valley below contrast with the snow white hills. Tonight they will offer shelter, and tomorrow we will return to seek the heights once more.