With the death throes of M's cold still throe-ing and my cold well and truly dead ("Ere, he says he's not dead", "Yes he is", "I'm not", "He isn't", "Well, he will be soon, he's very ill", "I'm getting better", "No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment") I went out on my own this morning but it wasn't until I climbed onto the Nattlandsfjellet ridge that I discovered that there was snow to be had high up on the big hills! The sun was making one of it's rare weekend in-store appearances but there was a mean wind accompanying it, coming straight off the North Sea and up over the ridge. I cinched my hood up, put my head down and up I went. Plenty of people out enjoying the cold crispiness. My day was capped when I got to see another (or the same) Arctic Hare racing across the whiteness. It was in almost the same place that I saw one last time but without a telephoto lens and sharp shooter reactions you'll just have to take my word for it. It was a good few hours of frosty fun and a great way to get over my cold.