It had been a cold, grey, damp winter. The cloud had barely lifted off the hills for more than a few hours in months. The bare trees were covered in moss and dripped continuously. It felt like we hadn’t been out to play for weeks.
Then one night the cloud disappeared and it was clear. No moon meant dark skies and the stars leapt out of the inky blackness. The Milky Way traversed from horizon to horizon.
Donning head torches, two friends and I walked up into the old quarries behind the village, built a fireplace from some pieces of slate and lit a fire. Under the stars we toasted marshmallows and put the world to rights. There was a cold wind but lots of layers and the fire kept us warm.
It was gone midnight when we picked our way through the slag heaps and back to our homes. Our eyes were red and our hair and clothes smelt of smoke but it didn’t matter, it was just nice to have been out doing something.
