What jumps out first is the cloud-dappled sky… until you realise there’s land where there could be none and there’s a momentary sense of dislocation until you realise it’s not sky, nor even the reflection of clouds, but a frozen loch in the process of thawing.
It’s Loch Etchachan, April 2019. I’d set off planning to go over by Loch Etchachan to Loch Avon, and was looking down onto Loch Avon when I decided I was too lazy to go down there and climb back up again. So instead I ended up with a longer walk, climbing up the side of Carn Etchachan and following the ridge up onto Ben Macdui at the head of the Tailors’ Burn, which I followed down to Glen Dee before heading back through the glen to Bob Scott’s, a stravaig across hills led by whim rather than plan.
It was while I was climbing the steep rib up onto Carn Etchachan that I noticed how the thawing of the ice on the loch resembled clouds in a blue sky. The second photo shows more of the loch and even though the surrounding landscape gives more context the illusion of clouds is still strong.
A series of Covid dreams. Just a photo or two from the archives and a few words: memories of the Cairngorms to stay in the heart while we’re kept away from the hills.
cairngormwanderer 