Category: Reflections
Often sunlit wintertime rambles around Cork and Waterford
10th February 2026 Sunshine can lure one outside, as long as one is not otherwise preoccupied. That has been the story of my life in the last few weeks, and perhaps during the previous twelve months as well. Thankfully, the Christmas and New Year period got some of the clutter out of the way for me to get out and about to explore places both familiar and unfamiliar to me.
December became a time to again see places where I had been before. Some of this was nighttime wandering along parts of the Cork Harbour Greenway, at least while I was occupied with work. One that was out of the way, daytime rambling could happen with Blackrock and Passage West being reached. Later, I would reach Clogheenmilchan Fen and Blarney on what was an overcast day, not that it mattered at the time.
After that, East Cork saw much of me. First off, there was the Youghal to Midleton (nearly spelled that with two d's, which is wrong for this part of the world) Greenway. It took me an hour to get out of Youghal because of all its sunlit distractions, a trend that was to recur on a later encounter. It did not help that there is photogenicity in the area, not that it caused much bother with lack of daylight at the end of my hike.
When I did get going, progress was steady, with Killeagh and Mogeely punctuating the hike through level countryside on a former railway line. There were no hills to halt decent progress as I savoured my surroundings along the way. It was making a decent introduction to the area. More people were out and about between Killeagh and Mogeely than on the other parts, with that last piece between the latter and Midleton not being overrun either. The initial section was the quietest of the lot, though, and that suited me just fine.
New Year's Day came sunny, and even a misunderstanding of the bus departures times failed to stall my enjoyment of what I found there; the extra time in Cork allowed for some added photographic activity anyway. Coastal strolling that I needed to abandon on my previous visit, which came as quite a wrench at the time, was my lot this time around. This took me down as far as Ring Point (Rinn, pronounced ring, is the word for point as a geographical feature in the Irish language, so this is a tautological collision) near Pillmore before I turned back for Youghal again. Light declined on my return via the Greenway and the tide had covered the beach, signalling the passage of time while I was rambling. The initial semblance of a throng of people dissipating all the while I was walking, to leave something more pleasurable. Plenty had been gained, making the journey to Cork a timely return.
The next day, I was destined for Ardmore, only for Youghal to detain me again. Its medieval side was part of that, as was a spit of land shadowing its Mudlands and the River Blackwater. While that last jaunt left me wondering if I had overdone things, my onward to travel to Ardmore had not been endangered. Once there, I made for the church ruins and associated (and well-preserved) round tower, the first time that I had been so close to an example of the latter; this is also one of the termini for St. Declan's Way, a long-distance walk from Ardmore to Cashel inspired by a journey once made by the saint. Cliff top walking ensued, a promenade inspired by one of the Hike Life books that I had been reading during December. That was followed by saw shoreline walking before I continued to Dungarvan, taking in sights around Rinn (the same word I mentioned above) and Helvick Head in the Waterford Gaeltacht (Irish-speaking area). After some strolling around there, I commenced my return to Cork after a satisfying day packed with so much winter sunshine and sightseeing.
My traipsing had me passing through Castlemartyr that it felt wrong not to have a stopover there. There are forestry looped walks to savour as well as the grounds of the Castlemartyr Resort, a very busy place by all accounts and blessed with castle ruins as well as the Womanagh River. There was even time to reach Lough Aderry via country lanes and learn of the Ballintotis network of looped walks, something that you might never realise while passing on the main orad by car, bus or coach. All this made use of yet another sunny day.
Since the forecast promised one more of those, I returned to Dungarvan, However, an encroaching rain attenuated what I could get. Sunshine was momentary rather than continuous on a walking loop that fitted in part of the Waterford Greenway. Thus, another return visit sounds apt, and the Greenway also has me thinking of other prospects too. Two days starting at Kilmacthomas, one headed for Dungarvan and another destined for Waterford, tickle my fancy. Though Greenway walking may seem monotonous to some, it does allow you to survey an area while getting to know more about it. My county Waterford incursions have not been that deep so far, making the Greenway wandering look like a good way to do just that. After that, other ideas may emerge.
A major addition and a significant overhaul
6th February 2026 After what probably has been far too long, I have added a Cairngorm Mountains album to the photo gallery. The accumulation of photos from 2009, 2010, 2023 and 2024 was sufficiently large for this to be a gargantuan exercise. Picking out photos became challenging, particularly when emotions entered the fray and self-doubt further complicated decision-making. Once that was out of the way, the task became more manageable.
Then it was down to the addition of titles and descriptive text, a task that took more time because of work commitments. For a time, there were photos online with titles and no other text until I could get around to adding that. Thankfully, that is all complete now, so others can enjoy what is on there, which is the more important part.
All of this was in marked contrast to the pruning of the Lochaber gallery and the hiking ideas that threw up for me. Aside from any wish to improve on photographic quality, the Cairngorms do not have quite the same pull on me after all the traipsing in recent years. Nevertheless, there were a few ideas that popped into my head as I surveyed the map while identifying the locations of photos.
One thing that had not occurred to me was how far south Loch Eanaich was; there is not much difference between its latitude and that of Kingussie. That lead me to plot out a lengthy course from the latter back to Aviemore via Glen Feshie, Sgòr Gaoith, Sgòran Dubh Mor and Sgòran Dubh Beag. A decent level of fitness would be needed for such an escapade, as would a day with plenty of daylight. The west wall of Gleann Eanaich would take its toll, with the Munros and the northern descent after them posing significant challenges.
Another prospect that caught me eyes was that of reaching Loch A'an, which might be combined with an ascent of Cairn Gorm too. It is not just the height that matter in the Cairngorms but also the distance, hence the preference for longer hours of daylight, hopefully without the attendant heat that can accompany them during the high season of the Scottish year.
My not being to Braemar for more than fifteen years is itself a prompt for a return, as much as the images I made on a showery autumnal around nearby Morven. Longer ventures would take me into Glen Callater, though that is verging on embarking on a multi-day backpacking escapade, much like going from Blair Atholl to Braemar via Glen Tilt or going through the Lairig Ghru between the latter and Aviemore. Using the Lairig an Laoigh route between Glenmore and Braemar also brings its own temporal challenges that may or may not be as arduous as the others.
Keeping things more modest would keep one around Braemar in preference to those longer hikes. Here, Creag Choinnich and Carn nan Sgliat could offer rewards. If terrain, time, fitness, energy and strength were accommodating, then continuing to Creag nan Leachda and Millstone Carn could be ideas. There may be little need to venture any further.
Thus, without needing to peer at more than a map, hill wandering ideas can surface. Given the geographical scale of the area, it is best to keep one's ambitions in hand so as not to overdo things. After all, it is little wonder that some combine a mountain bike ride and a hill climb to fit things within the temporal confines of a day in these parts.
A year with much city hopping around Ireland, Switzerland and elsewhere
3rd November 2025 While you can plan as much as you like, a year never turns out quite as you hope. For me, that has been the story of 2025. A hoped for trip to Canada could not happen, necessitating a booking cancellation. The need to get more freelance work in a tough market simply weighed on everything else. Having addressed that need, it is only now that I can begin to look ahead again, even though a busy work life takes from that a bit.
This also got in the way of wilderness wandering, which meant my getaways involved cities most of the time, even if adjacent countryside also saw my footfall there. Also, booking a place to stay forces you to get going more than dangling the prospect of a day trip before you in circumstances like what I have experienced this year. That more likely made my excursions urban than they otherwise might have been.
Cork Residencies
January began in Cork, Ireland’s second city because of my spending Christmas there in somewhere that I have as an Irish base. My search for freelance work had begun without my realising the arduous road ahead of me. Otherwise, it was time to haul myself outside around such places as Blarney and Kinsale when a certain torpor could prevail otherwise. Before I left for the UK in the middle of January, a property matter was set in place that would close later in the year.
April would see me return, first for a weekend visit, searching for items that I needed to send to someone else and recovering after another discussion about new work came to nothing. The recovery was helpful, while the search remained fruitless in the interval before I returned for an Easter residency that allowed me to visit Cobh and Kinsale again, among other things. Then, my time was spent away from other city landmarks like its English Market, the north side’s Shandon area, University College Cork, Mardyke or Fitzgerald’s Park. Other things were on my mind.
A funeral was the cause of my returning at the end of July. Apart from saying goodbye to an elderly relative, things were otherwise upbeat thanks to my commencing a new contract and getting out in the sunshine for some pleasant walks around by Blackrock Castle and Cobh on consecutive evenings; this is an area that is much influenced by its harbour and estuary. However, it felt too short a rendezvous, ensuring that a return is in mind as soon as a space comes up for such a venture.
Swiss Getaways
May brought a near miss with getting work organised and that left me feeling morose. Having felt on the fringes for too long, a conference trip to Geneva came not before time, even if it may have scuppered that earlier opportunity. These just in time searches are very fragile things, as I was to discover in June, albeit without any real consequences that time aide from feeling saddened at having to choose something else.
Sunlit evenings in Geneva ensured that I became sated with what the city offered, along with some complementary weekend sampling along Via Jacobi from Coppet back to Geneva. Landmarks familiar from a stay in September 2015 like Jet d’Eau, the banks of the Rhône and Lake Geneva were again frequented, while the cobbled streets of the old town climb to the Cathédrale St-Pierre offered new perspectives. Later that week, a certain amount of repetition aroused a need for novelty that propelled me to Bern for a glorious evening of strolling that did me a lot of good as I traipsed its loop of the River Aare, another first since September 2015.
Other prospects like Zurich and Lucerne appealed during my time in Geneva, until I saw the travel times were longer than I fancied. They offered a platform for a bank holiday getaway before which things began to look up for me a little. Lucerne was where I spent the better day of the trip, leaving Zurich to be explored in mixed weather. That limited photographic activity, yet it did not stop me embarking on a return sailing on Zurichsee that got me as far as Rapperswil, where I spent a good deal of time strolling around there and Pfäffikon under seemingly improving skies.
Since Zurich left an itch to scratch, a return ensued as May ended and June began. Hot sunshine was the enduring weather challenge this time around, even if it did little to stop me strolling along the shores of Zurichsee after following the banks of the Limmat or even along the banks of the River Rhine in Basel with that striking proximity to France and Germany.
Additional evening ambling around Zurich after returning from the latter led me into that city's nearby woods. There, I found an abundance of quietude that was healing, a refuge from the pervading uncertainty in my life. It was much needed and would have reached deeper into my psyche if my work life had been going better. It was quite a counterpoint to all activity around each city's Münster.
Passage through Paris was an element in all this journeying too, albeit far more briefly than during my travels in 2024. The first time was as part of a train journey conveying me all the way from Geneva to Macclesfield, while the second would have been the Zurich equivalent except for its expense. Then, it was Paris Charles de Gaul airport that was my exit point from continental Europe, a much quicker journey, albeit not one that was without its occasions for relaxation either.
British Trials, Solace and Celebration
While the Irish and Swiss segments of this piece have a certain chronology to them, even with Irish trips bookending the Swiss ones, the British portion does a spot of time hopping around each of them. First, there was the January return to the UK, after which I attended to numerous other matters that lay outstanding, possibly affecting my search for new freelancing work.
When meetings with a potential client came to nothing, I decided to break things up with weekend trips to Edinburgh and London. These mixed up revisiting old haunts with seeing new places while I rebooted my search for work. It was going to be out in the sunshine rather than being downbeat at home. My work strategy was getting a shake up too, which set the scene for coming months. Success would take time to come, meaning that there would be another trip to London early in June to attend a conference before everything came together.
Yet Another Scottish Incursion
When it did, there was cause to celebrate, albeit quietly. Before commencing a new contract, I headed north to Inverness, ticking off one last item from my excursion list for my time between contracts. It was in my head for the autumn of 2024 and might have happened if I could lure myself away from Ireland for longer during that September.
The ideas were rural in the main: Fionn Bheinn near Achnacarry, the Great Glen Way between Drumnadrochit and Inverness and the South Loch Ness Trail from Foyers or Dores back to Inverness. In the end, I opted for the first two, partly because of having better public transport options.
Even so, there was an evening spent in the highland city itself, pottering around the Ness Islands and passing Inverness Castle. On the trail back from Drumnadrochit, I briefly encountered the Caledonian Canal, though I did not spend as much time along its towpaths as on a previous visit as 2023 transitioned into 2024.
Eastern Quests
Norfolk, Suffolk and Cambridgeshire drew me away from home in July at a time when going east meant gaining cooler weather. This again was a mix of urban and rural, with much traipsing by the orienting River Wensum as well as a visit to Whitlingham Country Park. The medieval sights were surveyed too, especially around its cathedral close and its quiet green space within the city. There was time to traipse between Brandon and Thetford, shadowing the Little Ouse and passing through The Brecks under ever clouding skies. Those dented my brief visit to Ely and denied me photographic satisfaction there, ensuring a reprise two months later.
Though Ely was my target, I stayed in Cambridge because of its better accommodation options. A short train journey was all it took for me to see Ely's cathedral on a sunnier day, its unusual lantern tower drew a share of my attention before I pottered out of the city while skies broke over my head. Some rural ambling shadowing the Great Ouse showed me just how much of a landmark those cathedral towers make when viewed from the level, drained ground around the city. A return to its heart sated my photographic desires before another stroll by the river took me back to the train station under again clouding skies. Time had been called on my visit without causing any umbrage in my mind.
There was time to revisit Cambridge, too, to see and photograph different sights before I left for home. Advancing cloud cover again spurred me on to the train station after a sunny morning of ambling around the Backs, among other places. Different places were open compared with a previous encounter from years before. The River Cam was busy with punts and I left them to their way. Pembroke College saw me tarrying a while before I continued on a journey that was ending a sequence of summer jaunts, mainly urban but at times rural too.
A Southwestern Incursion
There was some time hopping above too: the two eastern excursions encapsulated a first trip to Devon and Cornwall. Again, cities pervaded with time spent around Exeter and Plymouth. Penzance became the Cornwall terminus for my rambling, allowing me to see the county's scenery from a passing train. While Exeter's cathedral and its surroundings clearly were a draw, they did not keep me away from the Riverside Valley Park, bounded both by the River Exe and the Exeter Canal. Exmouth was another location that lure, causing me to wander the coast a little too much for my own comfort given the advancing end of the hours of daylight. Nevertheless, this dalliance with the South West Coast Path did not result in ruin either, and Penzance became another, though my previous adventuring had tamed designs on an out and back trot to St. Michael's Mount. Thus, I made it home without any misstep.
Looking Ahead and Looking Back
There are upcoming business trips to Germany ahead of me, so the city hopping is not over for this year. Mainz is to be the location for a client meeting, with Frankfurt's airport proving essential for convenient travel. Because of the nature of the trip and the time of year, exploring will be at a premium, though. This also would be my first-ever overnight stay in Germany, only for the second likely to soon follow it: a conference trip to Hamburg. There, my time will be more my own, so more may come of it, though uncertainty pervades those possibilities.
A return to Cork for a longer spell is in my mind too, even if one cannot hope for too much when the hours of darkness are longer; an Easter stay would be better on that score. Beyond that, another conference could draw me to Italy for the first time. The venue is Milan in a time when hours of daylight are more amenable to personal city explorations. Since this is quite a time away yet, plans are not at all firm at this stage.
On reflection, there was a lot of temporal toing and froing in the above, unlike any rivers that flowed in only one direction. That was the sacrifice caused by focussing on locations to provide a thread holding together the whole account. Returning to the hydrological theme, it may have made the account tidal in places.
Another theme was what eventually became a successful search for freelance work, one whose busyness perhaps keeps me away from gallivanting as much the technological novelties that are coming my way. Reading is happening in parallel and something may stick there too, even if it feels far too premature to be considering summer holidaying plans. Last year's hubris does sit so well now.
Hiking over Lingmoor Fell and along Loughrigg Terrace: A journey from Great Langdale to Rydal
28th August 2025 In the summer of 2014, I left some unfinished business after another seed had been planted in my mind back in February 2009, when I hiked from Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel back to Ambleside, and the experience sparked an idea that stayed with me. There was nothing to dispel what lay in my mind, not even a December 2016 trek from Great Langdale to Grasmere in stunningly crisp and sunlit if frigid circumstances.
It took until May 2022, as I began to shake off the constraints of the pandemic, for these inspirations to be merged into a fulfilling day hike. Thus, I finally realised a vision that had lingered for years: reaching the top of Lingmoor Fell and making new photos of Grasmere. This was a day trip in a time before I again began to stay away from home in the U.K., though a trip to Ireland had involved exactly that. My sequential arrivals in Windermere, Ambleside and Great Langdale offer occasion to potter about Ambleside while awaiting the bus to the last of these. Once I got there, my traipsing on foot could commence.
Once in Great Langdale, I began to make my way towards Blea Tarn, first along the lane leading to Little Langdale before peeling off onto public rights of way for the rest of the way. As I gained height in the heat of the day on the flank of Side Pike, views opened out below and around me. It was one thing to witness again the craggy eminences of the Langdale Pikes and quite another to peer along the line of the Mickleden Beck, one that I followed south under clouding skies at the end of May 2008. Seeing that under brighter skies was a definite bonus.
The way up from Great Langdale was unrelenting until I crossed the road to commence a trail below the slopes of Rakerigg. The easing of gradients beyond this point was welcome, though that meant losing those downward views that I had been enjoying before then. Nevertheless, there remained plenty to savour on the way to and around Blea Tarn. Some young people had music playing, something that was less easy to comprehend with the soundtrack that nature was offering. Maybe you have to live a little to grow to appreciate those natural sounds.
After crossing more level ground, a sterner test awaited: the ascent of Lingmoor Fell via a steep pathless flank. While going around by Bleatarn House to pick up an informal path following the line of a beck may have been wiser, I saved on distance by taking a more direct approach. Pausing to take in what lay around me was demanded by the gradient, as much as patience with my then under pressure legs. At least, the terrain had yet to be choked by bracken, making it easier to see where to place my feet. Fronds were slowly unfurling, though, a hint of what was to come.
In time, the slopes relented near Brown How, the summit of Lingmoor Fell. Naturally, I had to visit that top to witness the splendour that lay around me. All the while, I had been on access land, ensuring that no charge of trespassing could be made against me for the way that I went. A useful wall acted as a handrail for continuing on my way until I finally began the descent to Dale End, with glimpses of Elter Water and Little Langdale Tarn.
From Dale End, I pressed on towards Elterwater village in the afternoon heat. Kinder gradients meant that reasonable progress could be made, and I felt the need to push on in any case. A diversion around by Elter Water (the lake) was not on the cards this time around. That may be an excuse for a return to sate a photographic need. Instead, I crossed the B5343 to commence a taxing ascent to High Close, entering into countryside last frequented in August 2014.
Then, I stayed in the YHA hostel around there on a day through grew increasingly dull until rain arrived while I was exploring the surroundings after arriving at my lodgings for the night. Even under overcast skies, everything looked appealing, and I hiked to Grasmere village the following morning. The whole escapade had an end of summer feel to it and pervaded the journey home afterwards.
This time around, it was a lake that drew me and not a village. The afternoon was reminding me of an even earlier incursion, on a Sunday when transport foibles frustrated a trip to Wales. Then (which could have been in 2004), I ventured forth on foot from Ambleside before crossing Loughrigg and making photos as I went. However, the film stock that I used made exposures appear too red for my liking, inspiring the August 2014 reprise. Nevertheless, there was much to savour that earlier afternoon, etching it into my memory even now.
On leaving the lane during the 2022 ramble, I reached Loughrigg Terrace, the vantage point for the above photo. One thing that struck was that my timing might have been better because shadows were being thrown by the sun in places where having them lit might have given a better result. That brought challenges with composition that I may have overcome. After all, the outcome beats anything that I got before then.
Unlike earlier sections of my walk, this one was busier. Others doubtless were drawn by the countryside and the weather, and their presence influenced my routing. Even with weary limbs, added uphill travel on a permissive path brought added quietude and more expansive views. As I continued on my way, I was reminded of that earlier Sunday afternoon. Then, whitethorn bushes and trees were in flower, while it became a moment for bluebells to hold my attention during the most recent encounter. All that lay around Rydal Water was catching the sunlight perhaps better than Grasmere, a happy accident of positioning.
My time around there ended with a wait at a bus stop for the next service to Windermere after getting to Pelter Bridge on a byway and subsequently walking back towards Rydal after that. Unlike a preceding occasion when a similar walk had continued to Ambleside, no such inclination arose this time. After all, rest was needed after all the exertions on what had been a satisfying day of rambling; it is days like these that draw you back time and again. In summary, the whole enterprise had drawn on previous encounters whilst also adding something distinctive to boot.
Travel Arrangements
For this outing, I took a round-trip train journey from Macclesfield to Windermere. From Windermere, I hopped on bus service 555 to reach Ambleside before bus service 516 took me the rest of the way to Great Langdale. Service 599 was used to get back from Rydal to Windermere at the end of my hike, allowing a chance to get some refreshments before I continued on my way home again.
Tracing footsteps in England’s eastern counties, gathering ideas for more distant escapades
19th July 2025 The summer of 2025 is quieter for me than this time last year; the main need is to get in some freelance revenue now that I have an opportunity to do so. Summertime gallivanting that happened in previous can await because other things matter more right now. Today is wet where I am writing these words, a contrast to last weekend when I pottered off to England's eastern counties seeking some respite from high temperatures.
Then, there was some strolling around Norwich that took me as far as Whitlingham Country Park before I hiked from Brandon to Thetford in advance of a brief visit to Ely. The time was short yet much could be made of what was available, though returning to Ely under brighter skies remains a possibility; Saturday grew more sunny while Sunday grew more cloudy as the respective days wore on.
Otherwise, I have returned to unread copies of Wanderlust magazine to collect ideas for future overseas escapades. My time between contracts appears to have emptied my ideas list, though the need to get revenue-earning freelancing going again cast its own shadow too. With a new start being made, there appears to be opportunity for thinking ahead again.
Online reading is all very good, but perusal of a print magazine allows things to soak in more readily, especially when some relaxation involved. Thus, prospects like hiking trails near Gothenburg or exploring Germany's medieval heartland all beckon. The upheavals on the other side of the Atlantic may pause such designs for now, maybe allowing Antipodean explorations to come to pass. Given how advanced this year is in its lifetime, collection of ideas and collation of possibilities sounds more sensible at this stage.
While last year allowed me to see much of Ireland, the concentration in the province of Munster necessarily meant that other places did not get a visit, and there is much over there. Thus, I remain a subscriber to newsletters from MountainViews. Since these can be lengthy, they can be lengthy; printing them out can be a better idea at times. In any case, here is a synopsis of the latest issue for your perusal:
July 2025 marks a poignant yet celebratory edition of the MountainViews Newsletter, a staple read for hillwalkers and hikers traversing the Irish landscape. As the newsletter unveils a new format that harmonises well with both mobile devices and traditional desktops, it simultaneously honours the legacy of the late Brendan O'Reilly, a cornerstone figure in the MountainViews community. The obituary penned in his memory captures the richness of his contributions, illustrating a man whose passion for hillwalking defied the challenges of gruelling weather and punishing terrains. Brendan's journey of summit bagging, which led him to be the first to complete the Arderin list, is remembered not just for the peaks scaled but for the modesty with which he celebrated his adventures.
In tandem with this tribute, the newsletter also delivers an array of content aimed at invigorating the hiking community. Readers are treated to evocative photo essays that capture the majestic scenery from Ireland's summits, as well as those further afield in places like Patagonia and Spain. Journal entries guide enthusiasts through recent explorations, with highlights on the grandeur of Kippure in Dublin and a deep dive into Welsh County Highpoints, which promise rewarding challenges for those eager to venture beyond familiar terrains.
In true MountainViews spirit, the newsletter extends an invitation for suggestions and volunteer involvement, signifying a collective aim to enhance the quality of its offerings. Sprinkled throughout are engaging accounts detailing both local and international hillwalking exploits. From vivid recollections of a mystical trek in Donegal made remarkable by dry boots and blue skies, to an enticing glimpse into Welsh County Highpoints like Moel Sych and Holyhead Mountain, these stories illustrate hillwalking’s profound capacity to connect us with nature and with each other.
The edition does not shy away from addressing practicalities, touching on the intricacies of accessing some of the more secluded Irish treasures. Its discourse spans experience-based advisories on navigating challenging terrains such as Knocknagussy’s southern face or venturing to the isolated Cullinmore via a scenic Galway route. Such articles underline the newsletter's commitment to being an invaluable resource, combining anecdotal wisdom with meticulous factual detail.
For those with a penchant for exploring, the newsletter lists challenge walks for 2025, detailing both the triumphs of events like the Galtee Challenge and forthcoming commitments such as the Joyce Country Challenge. Meanwhile, video content from seasoned hillwalkers like Peter Nevin offers viewers secondhand adrenaline from treks in remote Scottish landscapes.
Adhering to a dynamic and authoritative tone, MountainViews continues to serve as a bastion of inspiration and information for its readership. As it adapts to new technological platforms, it remains steadfast in its mission to foster a community relieved in sharing the beauty of hillwalking, the personal stories of its adventurers, and the power that comes from understanding and appreciating the natural world. Whether honouring past contributors or preparing for future adventures, this edition of the newsletter stands as a testament to both continuity and change in the ever-evolving landscape of hillwalking in Ireland and beyond.
The above punctuates a life that is otherwise oriented for now. Nevertheless, the act of reaching for pen and paper while seeking new places to explore seems opportune.
