Climbing the hill

These days, I do far less hillwalking than I used to. But when I did, I recall that it was best not to stop too often, but that some rest points were needed. I always seemed to be at the back of the party, and was often frustrated when the main group paused, just long enough for the stragglers to catch up, and then set off again.

The great moment, of course, is the achievement of the summit, often coinciding with time to consume our packed lunches. But I'm thinking also of the mid morning break, on the shoulder of the hill, perhaps the cars still in sight, tiny, far below. Between two worlds - the demanding, complicated world of normal life - and the bracing otherness of the high plateau ...