One of the many joys of a landscape visited by snow is the shape-shifting quality it can bring to familiar features.
A fallen tree cloaked in snow, with strangely human lines; from the mind of Andy Goldsworthy.
A trig point looming out of the cloud becomes a thing of ghostly sentinel reassurance amidst the enveloping whiteness.
Though walking in wintry conditions requires care and knowledge, in the words of R.S. Thomas snow feels no pity, it can also be a welcoming host; on heather uplands the thin dotted green or black path lines on the map become gleaming white high ways on the ground, illuminating the route ahead. This snowy benevolence enhanced by the boot tracks that give confidence of the right path taken (assuming a lost soul is not being followed). On this occasion the hard stamped marks of a fell runner anticipated my route, the same circuit completed in reverse.
And, in this far away mountain zone, how does it feel? It feels like I don't ever want to come down.