IT’S cold on Lujar. The beast of a mountain has been growling beneath a dusting of snow for the past few days. The telecommunication masts that crowd its summit are rimed with ice. So different from when I stood beneath them back in 2012, throat parched and boots white with dust. Glad I’m not up there today . . .
Deep snow on the summits of the Sierra Nevada. Some days the mountains appear pure and white beneath clear skies. Some days they are black ships labouring through dense clouds with snow spray on their hulls.
Me, I just sit on the roof and take photographs, occasionally wishing I was wading through those pristine snowfields, but relieved I’m not when an arctic wind rolls heavy clouds in from the north.
The weather changes remarkably quickly here in the Alpujarras. Today is like a day in late spring, with healing sunlight and a lively wind. Yesterday was cold and dark. Tomorrow could be a return to sleet and heavy clouds.
Meanwhile, I dream of spending a night on Lujar (1,877m or 6,161ft), stretched out upon the slabby western summit away from the towers, watching the stars revolve while the scent of pine fills the air. But not just yet. Warmer and more settled weather, I think.