Tracks in the snow

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It had snowed overnight and on the following morning the hills held on to the white stuff a little bit longer. The road up to Grianan offered no grip for my tyres, so I had to leave the car at a house with the kind help of his owner and walked all the way up the icy road through a winter wonderland. Something I did last twelve years ago on Christmas day. I had forgotten how beautiful it was. And it felt like Christmas day again.
The tyre tracks of the gate keeper’s car led as far as the opened barrier. The footprints from there to the car park belonged to a woman and her two dogs. From there only my steps were visible in the snow. I got a very cold half an hour until another visitor arrived. Although I wished for more, I would have not lasted much longer in these cold, testing winds and the sky turned into this undefined and wash out grey from the west, bringing only frost and bad weather.
My way down was worried, since I felt there was less head space as I entered through the gate, compared to two days previous. Maybe I never paid much attention. On the other hand I became strangely destructed that her red car never passed me on my return. And staying with bad feelings, an estate agent is moving up getting closer by the signed out fields to Grianan and I was easily chased off by a bit of cold air. But not before taking some pictures for future Christmas cards. Resources are scarce for Grianan. I wish myself back in time, even my own, just to enjoy consciously and unspoilt such beauty.

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