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The grey line and crush of
a cracked granite slope
to catch a glimpse
out across the valley tops
to the sea where the sun,
in eye aching reflections
of bright sky is glimpsed
only to be hidden again
and to climb again
against the grain of others
backed to the wind until we
drop to the lee, to regroup
and let drip tried bodies
on a suddenly green hillside.


And so the rain begins.

Skiddaw, a fine mountain to climb.

Mikes P's Birthday on Skiddaw

Who but friends would carry party hats and Champagne to celebrate on top.