Country diary: the cold is bitter, but the views are entrancing

The Chevin, Otley, West Yorkshire In the waning light the massed black-headed gulls move like a cloud of incenseThe light that drenches the far side of Wharfedale has the translucence of burning coal, burnishing fields with the illusion of deep warmth. But it presages the onset of a bitterly cold night; the meagre heat of the winter sun is lost as my surroundings, the Danefield woods on the Chevin escarpment, are plunged into dusk.My run has been prolonged by enthusiasm. Now I feel as exposed as