After Christmas, as winter gets deeper, I’ve been wanting to head north where it’s dark and damp. Even on clear days, there are only a few hours of sunlight here. I’d rather spend time in the depths of gloom, contemplating the invisible beings that reside unseen and the precious value of life striving to persist within the shadows. With snow forecast for the Highlands, I thought I could see snow-covered hills if I went now.

It was my birthday eve last night, so I had a few whiskies which made me leave late today. There was no sun, but the sky stayed grey as we drove north. Passing Dalwhinnie distillery, I thought it would be nice to visit on the way back.

We parked near the loch side. Every passing vehicle sounded unnaturally loud against the silence. We followed the walking path inward. It was just us there. As we moved away from the road, traffic noise faded until it vanished entirely. Even with strong wind, the lake stayed calm. The snow-covered hills made it so quiet they swallowed our footsteps.

Before long, all light left the sky. Time passed unnoticed until I realised how late it was. The distillery was closed, but I didn’t mind much. An owl cried nearby. It sounded close enough to hear clearly, but we couldn’t tell which direction.