Fhsaihno
Yesterday, the promised broken sunshine never happened. A thick layer of cloud blanketed our part of the planet on what was the shortest day of the year in this hemisphere. Now, day by day, the light will return. I drove to the foot of Mam Tor - the shivering mountain - at the far end of The Hope Valley. Clint was also shivering as I donned my walking boots and set off. "Don't be too long!" he called after me as I grinned peevishly to myself, knowing I wouldn't be back for at least two and a half hours. Climbing up the valley side to Hollins Cross I needed to urinate so I removed my woollen, fingerless gloves and watered a lonesome sycamore tree. It may have been there that I managed to lose my left glove. No doubt I hadn't pushed it deeply enough into my coat pocket. I just hate losing things and it rarely happens. I walked along The Great Ridge and up to the summit of Mam Tor. Often when I am out rambling in the countryside I don't see another soul but...