Wel­come

Scottish Field - - WELCOME - GET IN TOUCH THE ED­I­TOR, SCOT­TISH FIELD, FETTES PARK 496 FERRY ROAD, ED­IN­BURGH EH5 2DL PHONE 0131 551 1000 EMAIL ED­I­[email protected] SCOTTISHFI­ELD. CO.UK WEB WWW. SCOTTISHFI­ELD. CO.UK

It’s that time of year again when the tur­moil of the sum­mer hol­i­days has faded, and life set­tles down into a rou­tine that is only bro­ken when Christ­mas rears its head and dom­i­nates our di­aries. For many of us this is a pe­riod of dol­drums when short days and long nights make it a time of year to be en­dured rather than rel­ished.

Not me though. I’m with Dougie Cun­ning­ham, the gifted pho­tog­ra­pher whose stun­ning im­ages we are fea­tur­ing in this is­sue in the Cold Light of Day fea­ture. This ex­plores Dougie’s love of head­ing out from Glas­gow and mak­ing for Scot­land’s wildest cor­ners in deep mid-win­ter, when he finds the soli­tude and the soft light that only ap­pears fleet­ingly over the sum­mer. Some might find his love of win­ter strange, and his joy at find­ing him­self on snow-capped peaks a bit masochis­tic, but I in­stinc­tively get it. Roam­ing around one of the steep­est parts of Ard­na­mur­chan re­cently, I stopped at the top of a Cor­bett and looked down the glen to­wards the sea, only to be cap­ti­vated by half a dozen shafts of light which broke through the cloud cover and shed a dap­pled spot­light on patches of hill and moor. It was a re­mark­able sight that I watched for ages un­til the wind shifted and the rays dried up.

If any­thing, my big­gest prob­lem with be­ing out in the wilds is that it’s too warm. Af­ter a sum­mer of con­tin­ual rain and low tem­per­a­tures, if any­thing it seems even warmer now than it was at the height of what we laugh­ingly called sum­mer. Call me weird, but I yearn for snow and a cold snap – if only so that I can galumph around Glen­shee on skis – but in­stead find my­self out on the hill in early Novem­ber wear­ing just a t-shirt and still feel­ing un­com­fort­ably hot. No mat­ter. Whether it’s hot or cold, snow­ing or rain­ing, there’s nowhere bet­ter to be than in the hills, whether it’s in high sum­mer with the midges, or mid-win­ter with only Dougie for com­pany.

Richard Bath, Ed­i­tor

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