The Pass

The Pass
When clouds swirl around concealing the tops and the crags stream with water the pass is a gloomy place. It feels as though the sun will never shine again and days in verdant pastures, on sun kissed rock or scrambling on the high ridges are but distant memories.

Every now and then, when all hope of feeling the warmth of the sun is lost and you are about to turn tail and find solace in the pub, magic happens, just to remind you that the pass can be glorious as well as grim.

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~ by nicklivesey on January 25, 2012.

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