Up hill and down dale.
Frost’s crunch beneath tread on the moor top and fell scaled.
At least until the wind near took our feet, turned us around.
One day the rain lashed in waves that rolled across valleys like smoke
Gave us eerie light, pale and ominous as noon struck.
It etched an image that will last many more turns of the clock.
Paths wound us through fog to brief plateaus where we sat on rocks
produced tobacco and papers, drew on rolled cigarettes,
ate sandwiches before moving off again.
Other times, perfect silence reigned when snow fell
in those big slow flakes that settle layer on layer.
Our merry crew didn’t always reach the top
but we tried every time.
Without fail, though, we found warm pubs
their grumpy landlords and assorted dogs
at each day’s end.
And mornings with bleary eyes,
coffee and soul music,
the evening headlit car trips home,
hip hop on narrow twisting roads
were just as much a part of it.
Stretched legs and cleared heads
keep winter’s gloom at bay
bring up past stories in new places
ensure those firm friendships are maintained.
Photograph by Dee Kelly