Richard Childs
Cloud arrives, Glencoe.
The car park at the foot of the Lairig Eilde was full of the usual mix of hillwalkers and sightseers returning to their cars at the finish of a great winter day on the hill.
I had been working around the foot of Buachaille Etive Mor and Sron na Creise for much of the day beneath clear blue skies and was heading to the coast for a change of scene.
On a whim I pulled into the car park, got out of my car and poured myself a coffee, intending to enjoy a break in the open. Suddenly cloud rolled up out of the glen, my plans had to change. Not a single drop had passed my lips before the coffee was flung to the ground, I shouldered my pack and rushed off up the mountain at break-neck speed. Behind me the assorted visitors much have thought I was mad but I managed in time to make this image so who cares.
Cloud arrives, Glencoe.
The car park at the foot of the Lairig Eilde was full of the usual mix of hillwalkers and sightseers returning to their cars at the finish of a great winter day on the hill.
I had been working around the foot of Buachaille Etive Mor and Sron na Creise for much of the day beneath clear blue skies and was heading to the coast for a change of scene.
On a whim I pulled into the car park, got out of my car and poured myself a coffee, intending to enjoy a break in the open. Suddenly cloud rolled up out of the glen, my plans had to change. Not a single drop had passed my lips before the coffee was flung to the ground, I shouldered my pack and rushed off up the mountain at break-neck speed. Behind me the assorted visitors much have thought I was mad but I managed in time to make this image so who cares.