Snow over the Pentlands

Snow is no stranger to Scotland, often carpeting the country throughout the winter months. But maybe a little more unexpected are heavy falls of snow with Easter looming on the horizon. And so it is at the moment, with one week to go, bringing traffic chaos, power failures and the inevitable school closures. And yet many of us secretly admit to a sneaking love affair with this climatic inconvenience. There is a romantic feel about a fresh fall of snow, untouched by human footprint, pure, unblemished, peaceful. We reach for our cameras to capture nature at its most beautiful, trees edged in white, the landscape transformed into a wonderland of snowclad magic. 

Snow brings out the child in me, despite the problems that fall from the sky with each flake. Out come the welly boots, the scarves and the gloves - and today is no exception. Leaving the centre of Edinburgh behind, there is no better place to head for than the Pentland Hills Regional Park for a bracing walk and some snowy silliness.

The Pentland Hills lie to the south west of Edinburgh and are about twenty miles in length. A number of rivers rise in the hills, including the Waters of Leith, and the hilltops are scattered with archaeological remains. This is a beautifully wild area, its scenic upland sculpted by water and glaciers before being shaped by the interactions

of people over hundreds of years. Very much open to the elements, you are surrounded by nature as you wander in the fresh air wrapped in the tranquility of the landscape. Roaming hills, small pockets of woodland, heather moorland, and vast communities of wildlife including stoats and voles, make this a truly invigorating place to spend a few hours. Now, back to the present ......

Despite a biting wind, one that has no respect for however many layers of clothing you add to your body, people were out in force enjoying what many hope will be the final flourish of what has been a long winter. Children out with their sleighs showed their expertise on the slopes whilst their parents stood by and smiled, if not somewhat nervously at times. Some adults braved the slopes themselves, shreiking louder than the youngsters although appearing decidedly less in control than their much younger counterparts. Children came to a gentle stop - adults spilled somewhat unceremoniously into a crumpled heap. Dogs, too, joined in the fun, frolicking in the snow, seemingly oblivious to the cold. And me? I love jumping into patches of snow yet to be broken by human footprints. This is my snow, my snow to spoil as I think fit. There are occasions when crazy jumping results in my disappearing knee-deep in an unexpected snowdrift - producing a fit of the giggles before looking woefully around for a helping hand. There are times when grown up behaviour can be abandoned with relish. And this is one. Snow-clad stone walls, picnic tables clothed in cloths of white, pine trees laced with snowy fringes ...... so much beauty encompassing so much fun. Then heavy skies laden with the threat of yet more snow make the promise of a warm pub and a welcoming drink seem infinitely more preferable. Can you blame me for putting my childhood to rest once more and venturing back down the hill for a few home comforts? Certainly not .....