Northwind Field Notes

Fog on the ridge

The forecast promised clear skies, which in this valley means the fog simply waits until you have committed to the ridge path. By the second cairn the world had shrunk to a circle of wet heather perhaps ten metres across.

There is a particular silence in fog that makes every sheep sound like a conversation.

An 1870s survey sheet

Found in a box at the market: a survey sheet with the old parish boundaries drawn in a careful red hand. Half the footpaths it shows are gone; two of them are still there, and one leads exactly where the map says it should.