Adam Watson's interest in snow began at 7, the Cairngorms at 9, mountaineering and ski-mountaineering in later boyhood. His book recounts many fine days on the hill in Scotland, Iceland and northern Scandinavia on foot or ski, often on his own in wonderful places that excited him beyond measure. He tells what it was like to be with four remarkable Scots who greatly influenced him as a young naturalist and mountaineer, Seton Gordon, Bob Scott o the Derry, Tom Weir and Tom Patey. The beauty and variety of the hill, the weather and the wildlife were and are an inspiration to him, and his descriptions touch on this. In these modern times of pervasive regulation and politically correct control, this book is a breath of fresh air as a proclamation of the value and wonder that are the greatest joys of lone exploration on the spur of the moment. Author Adam Watson, BSc, PhD, DSc, DUniv, raised in lowland Aberdeenshire, is a retired research ecologist aged 80. He began lifelong interests on winter snow in 1937, snow patches in 1938, the Cairngorms in 1939. A mountaineer and ski-mountaineer since boyhood, he has experienced Scotland, Iceland, Norway, Sweden, mainland Canada, Newfoundland, Baffin Island, Finland, Switzerland, Italy, Vancouver Island and Alaska. His main research was and is on population biology, behaviour and habitat of northern birds and mammals. In retirement he has contributed 16 scientific publications on snow patches since 1994. He is a Fellow of the Arctic Institute of North America, Centre for Ecology and Hydrology, Royal Meteorological Society, Royal Society of Edinburgh, and Society of Biology. Since 1954 he has been a member of the Scottish Mountaineering Club and since 1968 author of the Club's District Guide to the Cairngorms. This book is testimony to the idea that Exploring for yourself by your own free will, without formal courses or training, is the best joy the hills can give (my Preface, The Cairngorms, 1975). Now I would add 'without detailed planning', for my best days have been lone trips begun without such planning, indeed on the spur of moment and weather, almost chance events. Four chapters salute Scots to whom I owed much as a young naturalist and mountaineer, Seton Gordon, Bob Scott, Tom Patey and Tom Weir. They held to the above idea. Reading Seton Gordon's Cairngorm Hills of Scotland in 1939 changed my life. I wanted to be in these hills at all seasons. Exploration by one's own free will is best pervaded by humility and wonder. Alien to this are avalanche alerts, 'challenge' walks, 'character-building', courses, Duke of Edinburgh Awards, guided walks, hill-runs, interpretive boards, marker cairns, outdoor centres, qualifications, rangers, route-cards, school outings, signposts, sponsored walks, tests of snowpack stability, text messages sent as avalanche alerts to mobile phones, transceivers, visitor centres, 'walk of the day', wardens, and 'wilderness walks'. Also alien are Munros, Corbetts and other anthropocentric designations, those who 'bag' them as if hills were shot birds, and assault, attack, battle, conquer, conquest, fight, vanquish and victory as if hills were enemies. Many with flashing camera, global positioning, map, compass, mobile phone, and survival equipment are unsafe, as rescue accounts often reveal. Even climbers have been rescued after neglecting navigation on easy ground after completing rock climbs or ice climbs. Those who behave as if alone on an icecap when nobody else knows where they are and no help is possible, have greater inherent safety. They are also more likely to understand and appreciate the hill and its weather, snow, wildlife and indigenous folk.

One day, Mr. Keene called all the students and teachers together and said, "This is a fine, fine school! From now on, let's have school on Saturdays too." And then there was more. School all weekend. School on the holidays. School in the SUMMER! What was next . . . SCHOOL AT NIGHT? So it's up to Tillie to show her well-intentioned principal, Mr. Keene, that even though his fine, fine school is a wonderful place, it's not fine, fine to be there all the time.

A catch phrase is a well-known, frequently-used phrase or saying that has `caught on' or become popular over along period of time. It is often witty or philosophical and this Dictionary gathers together over 7,000 such phrases.

Hennie Comfort is eighty-six and has lived in the mountains of Middle Swan, Colorado since before it was Colorado. Nit Spindle is just seventeen and newly married. She and her husband have just moved to the high country in search of work. It's 1936 and the depression has ravaged the country and Nit and her husband have suffered greatly. Hennie notices the young woman loitering near the old sign outside of her house that promises "Prayers For Sale". Hennie doesn't sell prayers, never has, but there's something about the young woman that she's drawn to. The harsh conditions of life that each have endured create an instant bond and an unlikely friendship is formed, one in which the deepest of hardships are shared and the darkest of secrets are confessed. Sandra Dallas has created an unforgettable tale of a friendship between two women, one with surprising twists and turns, and one that is ultimately a revelation of the finest parts of the human spirit.

I am waiting for Mark. For the last several months he has been missing, Garbo-like, from public life. But in reality he has been writing a new book. We have agreed to go back over the original manuscripts for this edition, to do some editing, add in some extras, delete a few choice words and phrases. We meet in his London home, where he is dressed in a workday uniform of brown shirt, jeans and trainers, hair clipped up in practical busy-busy fashion, all smiles and loud laughter. We first met over five years ago. Then we tentatively shook hands and the laughter was nervous. All that has changed. But some things have not. He still famously hates interviews. Around us there is evidence of a very regular existence. There are books scattered everywhere, a Sony widescreen with a DVD of Shackleton sitting below it. Atop the fireplace hangs a painting called Fishermen by James Southall, a tableau of weather-beaten sea dogs wrestling with a rowing boat; a gift he bought himself on the anniversary of a publication. Balanced against a wall in the office next door is a replica of the Rosebud sledge burned at the dramatic conclusion of Citizen Kane. As I unpack my scripts, I begin with a question. You once said, 'There is a figure that is adored, but I'd question very strongly that it's me.' There is silence. A stare. You did say it. 'Well supposedly I said that. But in what context did I say it?' Just talking about people building up this image of you. It was one of the first things you ever said to me. 'Yes, but I'm not, am I?' There was also that interview that described you as someone fragile being who's hidden himself away. 'That was fairly amusing. A lot of the time it doesn't bother me. I suppose I do think I go out of my way to be a very normal person and I just find it frustrating that people think that I'm some kind of weirdo reclusive that never comes out into the world.' His voice notches up in volume. Did you ever feel you would finish your first book? 'Oh yeah,' he sighs. 'I mean, there were so many times I thought, I'll have the book finished this year, definitely, I'll get it out this year. Then there were a couple of years where I thought, I'm never gonna do this. I don't know why. Time evaporates.' He walks over and picks up the manuscripts. He reads a bit. He laughs. 'Did I really agree to this?' he asks. Mark knows the answer. 'A couple of people who read the first book Tour De Europa,' he says, 'they either really liked it or they found it very uncomfortable. I liked the idea of it being uncomfortable. I thought that was great. I love the ambiguity. But I also loved looking back on lost conversations and instantly remembering an emotion.' A clock somewhere strikes two and a friend arrives with tea, pizza, avocado with balsamic vinegar and cream cake for afters, only to be playfully admonished by Mark, who protests, 'I can't eat all this shit!' It would appear some things never change.