Frosty femurs

Yesterday, it seemed to forecast a pleasant morning.  Liz and I were both a little surprised, in our summer trousers, to find huge wet snowflakes transforming to icy needles blasting straight through to our thighs.

We were certainly caught out but headed up a bit higher anyway in the hope that the flakes would be a little less keen to stick to and melt into our clothing.

It was, as usual, worth it. The dogs definitely thought so too!