Boardwalk

I have so many words going around in my head right now, thinking about all manner of things, that there is a danger that they're going to get irreversibly mixed up unless I release them soon. Today was set aside to just that, before I was overtaken by one of the most beautiful days I've ever experienced on the moor. 

I left home under clear blues skies with an exquisite hoar frost coating every tree. I'd hardly gained any height before a mysterious fog rolled in from nowhere. I was haunted by a Brocken spectre all the way along the ridge, photobombing every shot I took. As the fog rose, I climbed higher, trying to keep above it, until it consumed the whole moor. It occasionally receded, as it did here, to present a wonderland landscape for a few minutes, before rolling back in again.

This boardwalk is so new that I met some of the guys who had built it, clearing up afterwards. It's welcome as this stretch of path was always very boggy. Makes for quite a nice leading line too. 

There was inevitably a price to pay for such a magical day. I managed to face plant the path at one point, slipping on a hard patch of ice, and pulled something at the back of my knee. It made for a slow walk back home. My hands took a lot of thawing out on my return. Worth it, though.