It had snowed locally Friday into Saturday and although the roads were still treacherous with ice most of the snow had thawed with the exception of what had fallen over high ground. I can see Winter Hill from the top of the street but funnily enough I only went out early in the morning and during late evening when it was dark where the aviation lights on the mast were visible. I'd taken Brad and Holly on an early morning two hour walk which I topped off which bacon sandwiches for lunch which thawed me out nicely.

It had been a frosty start with clear skies which were perfect for my afternoon plans for a jaunt over Winter Hill timing the end of the walk to catch the sunset. It was a bit of a task because I'd never taken todays route - then factor in the ice and snow I might be pushing it but a quicker than usual start saw me gain twenty minutes on the sunset by which time I'd already let off the gas and was enjoying the powdery snow underfoot as the day drew to an end.

It had been an ambition of mine to walk Counting Hill in the snow the trouble was I was cutting it fine with time leaving just three hours to cover seven miles, an easy task if you was jogging it but I wasn't and there's deep snow on the ground. I came up with a route that would see me head away from Winter Hill towards Dean Mills Reservoir from where I'd go onto Winter Hill which would mean passing through Holden's Plantation first, if your not familiar with the area everything I'm saying now would mean nothing but put simply, it's a bit of a faff. Or so I thought it would be.

The snow had drawn in the crowds which meant I couldn't park where I wanted too which kinda worked out because there was far too much ice on the road for my liking so I parked on Georges Lane and walked with the crowds and their sleds before braking away once the bottom of Rotary Way was reached.

I pass a woman and her dog shortly after taking this photo who was herself taking a photo of an old gate post made from a slab of stone very similar to those found in Lakeland "I always stop here to take a photo" she explained "you don't know but this place has changed so much over the years, all except that stone" This woman had a good ten years on me but we were certainly on the same wave length.

I kinda like that mutual respect for the countryside, how you cling onto what was whilst living in the now.

I've reached the point now when there's only around an hour of light left and the sensible in me rears keeping a check on the sun's postion every few minutes as if it was my wrist watch.

I joined then passed the lads as we crossed Crooked Edge Hill then took in the slight descent towards Pike Cottage where children sledged the slopes below. The sun had almost completely dipped below the horizon and like most people I was returning to my car taking the odd photo each one seemingly stunning than the last. Adults mixed with children as they sledged thier way back turning the gentlest of slopes into sledging highways. Jeez they shifted.

I broke away from the crowds and passed Wilderswood where an orange glow tainted bark on the trees. Further below horses grazed in a nearby field where I glanced back at the fiery sky. Up hill now on to Georges Lane whilst stepping back into the slush to let the odd car pass.

From the top of the hill my car came into view and I didn't realise I'd parked so far down. Its almost dark now and the ice underfoot is solid but there's time for one last look out over Horwich where dusk had already began to settle.