The morning really began a few minutes into the new day as I woke and looked out of the window to see how the frost had suddenly turned to snow on the roof of the neighbour's house. It was difficult to sleep after that as there was an excitement about what the rest of the morning would bring.


Snow brings with it a new place to discover, a new wild place to explore and enjoy and learn about.

It was difficult to lift my sleepsoaked body up from the bed as the boundaries between the mattress, myself and the duvet had suddenly become more than a little hazy and was proving difficult to sort out, despite the prospect of being amid the winter snow.

But something was whispering in my ear that today would prove to be good, fresh, and what the essence of the John Muir Award was all about.

Later as I waited for my lift I thought about taking my camera to record some of the sites that I would be experiencing throughout the day, not quite the flower press that John Muir had carried with him, but one that could nonetheless make a faithful record.

Wild places seem a little tamed when they have a covering over them, as though they are resting; but they are not always so genial especially when they stir, turn over in their comfortable bed, and throw off the duvet that is over them, then wild places show why they are called wild places and what makes them a great place to discover.