The night’s frost has left a sugar glaze on the car windows. Scrapers out and heating on, skating around on frozen snow. The car slides down the freshly ploughed track, one wheel on the tractor tracks for traction. Then right turn, and foot on the accelerator to get up the hill. A thick line of snow and ice runs down the centre of the road, crunching underneath. The passing places have disappeared under mounds of white. Sharply upwards now on to the main road and I am safely on my way home.