Weather stories

The most peculiar thing on my trek across Snowdon Mountain was not the sheared sheep rolling around on their backs or the guided tour group, but the weather. One minute all was tranquil, the next a savage storm pounded upon the mountain.

I desperately clung to the jagged teeth-like rocks, so that I would not get sucked away into the sky. The tour group and the sheep had all been blown away (or so I thought as neither were in view). But I survived to tell my tale, as the wind ceased as rapidly as it commenced. I never found out what happened to those sheep though...

Snowdon, Wales, May 2001
Submitted online by A Allsopp, January 23, 2004