The dog launches itself down the steep slope and I have a job to keep up with her. The ground is wet from the recent rain. Below us in the valley bottom the stream cuts its erratic path down to the reservoir. The wind tugs at the long line that binds Lilly and I together and I have to shout wait to gain her attention. She looks back and stops for the clumsy slithering human to catch up. We plunge on further and as the ground levels out I feel less unstable and can relax. Lilly sniffs the ground and picks up some interesting smells. She sets off tail held high and ears pricked. The line brings her to a halt and she glances back reproachfully before racing to me, the scent forgotten. The ground is very wet and periodically the path, such that it is, is lost in a morass of mud and bog. Carelessly I place my foot on a soft bit of ground and the peaty water oozes over my shoes and seeps its way inside. Now I have soggy socks. We make slow progress up the valley, but eventually we cross the wooden bridge that spans the stream and start to make our way up hill. The sun has come out, and I, dressed for the wet and the wind find it uncomfortably warm. By the time we get up to the railway tracks however the wind is full in our face and I am glad of the protective clothes. With Lilly leading the way we pick up the pace and head back to the car park.