A chill wind blows through

We drove a little way up into the hills, parked the car and set off - with one eye on the heavy clouds on the horizon. They seemed to tumble and darken as they drifted alongside our walk.

We'd found parking which we shared with drifts of nodding snowdrops. They were protected by a small rocky bank and deep leaf litter from the steel cold cutting breeze which seemed to find every gap it could around my neck, up my sleeves and under my hat. We both pulled our coats tightly and set off across the fields, following an old pack horse track which trailed between farms.

We walked between forgotten barns and derelict buildings and tumbled down stone walls. All gently being consumed by nature. One barn made me pause so I could squint through a gap in the door. It was filled with cars from the 1970s, scavenged vehicles, cement mixers and piles of unused car tyres. All thickly coated in in generations of bird poop....

Another little stone building gently leaning over a river called me across to it. Himself bounded over with a grin and exclaimed it was a rather old (and well worn) "privy" and promptly sat down on the wooden boards .... Blokey lavatorial humour is alive and well! 

The little track turned upwards on to the hills lifting us into the chill wind. Our faces burned with the cold and my eyes watered fiercely. We leaned into the breeze and trudged our way along the now narrow muddy track through reeds and the limestone. Eventually I had to call time and we found a sheltered cove which was still in the sun but just out of the wind enough to recover. 

As the sun gently slid down the icy sky and the temperatures began to fall, we stumbled off the moors and back down on to farm land and towards the car. But before we'd finished our walk - we stopped to appreciate the sunset. 

It was good to be out, and despite that breeze being as brittlely cold as it was, felt clean and clearing and rather cathartic.