As autumn slides onwards, with the temperature dropping, the night getting longer, the day shorter, there was a recent timely reminder the fingers of winter will soon tighten their grip.
 
What seemed to be an early snowfall provided an opportunity for the children to make snow people but no buttons of coal, nose of carrot or hats and scarves to be seen. It also provided an opportunity to put on my boots, some warm clothing and head to the hills. I had postponed a longer trip due to the weather, so a gift of time appeared in my diary,
 
The snow had mostly gone, although the crispness in the air from the stiff wind, mixed with the temperature at zero, was a perfect tonic to make one feel ‘alive’. The biting breeze stinging one’s face. Few people were on the hills this day - there are normally more - which meant there was solitude and a greater feeling of openness. The ice underfoot crunched, requiring attention lest I slip and fall. More usually on the same slopes I would walk with far less attention of the terrain, not because I am too casual…I hope. More a case of being used to hill walking since I was small, when eager parents would encourage a love of nature, walking and observing, with frequent family trips out. Even if to the local woods, or hills a short ride away.
 
Some things we learn early in life, some things later; it is one of the many things to love about an attitude of lifelong learning. No matter how old one is there is always more to discover, more to enjoy. Although to look at the sullen faces of many, peering downwards at a screen, it does make one wonder what joy they are really taking from the algorithmic additive content they are feeding themselves.
 
Back to the hills and the wonder of nature…
 
A few years ago, I remember a friend asking to join a charity fundraising event I was undertaking - The 3 Peaks Challenge. It was the first time she had been properly hill walking. A pair of hiking boots were needed, plus some suitable outdoor clothing. She was a fit rower and runner but initially found the hills a challenge, yet worked hard on our training outings. Soon enough, learning the way to walk on the varying terrain, the assents, the descents. I was so pleased that when we undertook the Challenge, she was one of the people who succeeded. Many didn’t manage the last peak, Ben Nevis in Scotland, due to the cold and snow.
 
I remembered when we reached the top of Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa), the first of the other two peaks on the Challenge, about a previous time I had been there. That too was a charity fund raising event. A team from work went for a weekend - a number of our team were novices to the hills, albeit they had prepared with some training and eagerly learnt from the more experienced. With good team work all managed to ‘peak’ in difficult conditions on what can be a tricky mountain. Too often the danger on this mountain is underestimated – the weather can change quickly making visibility poor, a big temperature drop and underfoot very treacherous. A bottle of bubby deservedly appeared from my rucksack so we could celebrate our achievement - much to the amazement of the team.
 
As I stood on the top of one of the mini peaks on this range of hills you can see in the picture it brough these memories back to life. The charities, the people, the times shared, the learning for us all.
 
It reminded me of the care needed when out alone on the hills. It also raised the question of what next for my walking. I no longer seem to have the wish to tackle large remote peaks at the moment, perhaps I have that out of my system. The question raised left a lingering curiosity on what possibly is next, not just for walking - with no answer need just yet.
 
For sure anything out of the ordinary will require some research, new learning and planning.
 
It also reminded me that when I walk and the going is not so easy, as with the ice, it is wise to concentrate on what I am doing in the moment – on the task. When I stopped and felt my feet were secure, I could lift my sight and concentration to the distant horizon – take a few moments to remember what had been and open my mind to what could be. What new horizons could be in store.
 
When I feel secure in my ‘subject’ I can feel secure and confident, albeit I soon start to itch for a new challenge…and then, as I ask of clients, what is outside the comfort zone that may create stretch into the learning zone?
 
As a final point; I was asked only a few days ago by a past client, who knowns me well, yet we had not spoken for some time: ‘Are you still studying and going on courses?’ After a few moments of thought I explained some of my new learning, programmes attended and remembered standing on a cold breezy hill a few days before, with that curiosity of what next. The client admitted they had been too busy to read anything new or think about further study - our conversation continues and for sure a plan for new learning will be part of the next conversation in a few days as we engage in a new project.
 
Remember, a wise lumberjack makes time to keep their axe sharp...do you?
 
Are you comfortable in your comfort zone, too busy being busy, or is it time to stretch into the learning zone? The biting breeze, stinging one’s face, does make one feel alive!
 
My best wishes,
 
Peter