Cadair Idris in Winter

We plodded ever upward,

Up the mountain in the snow,

The summit hidden  in the cloud,

And the cloud, it swirled below.

Now and then a break - "A view! -

Quick, look before it goes!"

We'd look then keep on upward

Before the cold got to our toes.

Around us there was whiteness

And in it footprints deep,

A glance at map and compass

Then to our way we'd keep.

Now rocks appeared, dark shapes where

Wind had blown the snow away;

Whitened were the clumps of grass

And rushes we passed that day.

Drifts of snow against the rocks,

Then trig point at the height,

Just below snow-splattered shelter

Where we planned to spend the night.

There was no water near enough

So we had to fetch some snow

To melt in pans on stoves

Then out for more we'd go.

Eating meals and drinking tea;

Laughter and friendly talk,

On the summit of Cadair Idris

After a snowy winter walk.

Candles and nightlights lit the scene,

Until it was time for bed,

Flickering around the whitewashed walls,

Softly their light they shed.

We snuggled down in sleeping bags;

A voice said: "Did you know it? -

Who sleeps on Cadair's summit wakes

A madman or a poet!"

Christine Roche - Editor of backpack magazine                                  

 First published Autumn 2001 Backpack

 

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