One of the best mornings of the year, and the notebook doesn't hide it. "Crackin' morning" is what it says, and I don't use that word for just anything, so you can take it as measured. Clear over to Emley Moor and beyond. Set off at half seven and had the tops to meself till eleven, which above Meltham in late May is a privilege, and the notebook records it as one.
The boot were on the conduit path at Deer Hill. Right boot, brown, well weathered, one lace gone, sole split across the ball. It had done a winter up there, maybe two — you learn to read the difference, though I'd not swear to it in writing and the notebook wisely says "maybe." A boot that's wintered on the tops has a particular look, the leather gone the colour and temper of the ground it's stood on, and this one had it fully.
I sat with it a good half hour on the stool. Flask conditions excellent — the notebook's word, and it doesn't give that word out often. Egg and cress. Four photographs of the boot, and then a fifth of the view, which I don't usually allow, because the register is about the shoes and not about me having a nice time. But the notebook says "there it is," and there it is. I've looked that fifth photograph out while writing this up, and I'll say only that four years on, I understand why I broke the rule, and I'd likely break it again on the same spot. That's as far as I'll go.
Written up August 2026, from the notebook.