Inversion Over Coniston
The dreary drifts of November grey.
Cold nights, damp dawns and leaden skies.
In valleys, on lakes , the weighted coat of autumn wrapped around.
It took mountainous enthusiasm and just a little courage to take a walk.
Walna Scar Road
Go against the grain, against the instincts and instructions to stay indoors.
Walk up a hill. Up through he fog, of which there was plenty on Walna Scar road.
I was almost bored. There was little to see, bar the Hobbit House.
Coniston Old Man from Dow Crag
Then it swirled. Tantalising. Teasing.
Parting. Closing. Sinking down below and hiding from whence we’d come.
Pushed to one side. Collected together, a solid bank of white,
Cloud on Goat Hawse
The other side clear. Hills stretching out, clarity of green.
Summit of Coniston Old Man
Walking across the ridge it rested. A step left on the solid swirl seamed almost possible.
Harter Fell
Summer hills reflecting over November valleys.
Top of Coniston Old Man
And then the angels appeared.
Brockenspectre
Another quirk of a misty day.
Sun behind, cloud in front to cast the unearthly shadow.
Halo glowing in moisture soaked air.
Cloudbow
Clouds clung tightly to the hillsides. Reluctant to relinquish their hold.
Tipping over the edge of Low Water.
Low Water
Reflecting bright colours.
Reflection in Low Water
Lower. The sun stood not a chance.
Big Hill
The weighted coat returned to cover an ordinary day.
