As my head hit the pillow last night I was worried about today. Worried about missing out. The forecasted snow might mean that I should be outdoors, but today was always shaping up to be a very busy day at the desk.
One of our sons solved this little dilemma by getting me up at 4.30am. One peek out the window was enough to bring a childish, almost wild, excitement. For me that is, my son fell straight back to sleep. I was out on the hills by 5.00am. The plan wasn’t perfect: in order to avoid waking my wife I had to make do with the kit I could find downstairs.
I ventured out into the cold woods, wearing jeans, wellington boots and a pair of gardening gloves. The Shackleton Centenary Expedition this was not.
The woods managed to be both white and dark simultaeously.
I have just returned from three hours of…
