As we drive along Windermere on the A591, when we see the sailboats at Low Wood Bay we start looking for our first sighting of the Langdale Pikes. A few twists and turns later and we’re over Skelwith Bridge, driving through a wooded section, straining for glimpses through the trees. Then over the cattle guard, and we’re here.
This visit, the forecast was for three days of snow but the snow has already stopped and the mountains are only lightly dusted. We pull over to take some photos before the clouds veil the summits.
After more than four decades living without a visible horizon, I still miss mountains. I feel possessive about the ones I’ve encountered in my travels and on second viewing they always feel like old familiar friends. Over the years and many visits, the Langdale Pikes are practically family.
