winter colours

We went for fresh air in our favourite part of the Lakes, marvelling at emerald green cushions of moss and the roar of the tumbling river swollen with the nights rainfall. Finding gates to pass through, bridges to cross bogs, mud and fallen trees a little somebody was beside herself. She walker further than she has before. We retraced our steps as the wet snow flakes fell, hurrying to the warmth of the inn for tea and cocoa.