Every photograph tells a story. It was near the end of a day of high adventure under a clear blue sky, but this story was really about snow.

The crunch of snow under miles of journeying across a high plateau.

The sparkling grains of snow under a fiery yet chillingly cold sunset.

‘Home’ was below – a good 3000 feet below – so there was still ‘work’ to be done. But who does not pause a while to watch the evening sun sink below the line of the mountains? It signals the end of the day and tells you that now is the time for people to scurry back down to the big glen below. Possibly this was the best moment of the day; most mountain folk having already departed the high plateau in favour of the warmth of civilisation far below. We were alone on the hill, just us, sun and snow.

With a hint of reluctance we journeyed on and down. The snow white hills contrasted with the greens and browns of the valley below. The valley offers shelter, but really we are looking forward to returning to the heights once more.