Trail running the Roaches at dawn

I set an alarm I didn't really want to hear and drove out to the Roaches in the dark. By the time I laced up, there was just enough grey light to see the path. The gritstone was cold under my hand at Rockhall Cottage, and the moor was still asleep. Running on a familiar trail at first light is one of the small privileges of living where I live. I turned around at Doxey Pool, jogged back, and was home for breakfast.