The Human Context

Of course, totally the wrong time of day, and the wrong sort of day, to be taking photographs. Not that it wasn't a beautiful day, but, well, photographically barren. Comtemplating the view from Fairfield, wishing it were 4am, that there were more clouds. Or at least that there was some sort of human context to put the whole thing into. And then he appeared, my human context, spiralling over Grisedale Tarn trying to catch some air, the mighty crags of Dollywaggon Pike beneath him as he flew.