‘Where the hell is it?’ I probe the darkness with the fading beam of my head torch searching for the bothy. In the fading light everything gets distorted, from a distance boulders grow in size only to diminish when you reach them.
I look for straight lines, that’s the key. Nature does curves, only man made things are straight. I know I am close to the bothy but it is made out of local stone and merges in with everything else. After an hour I give up, get out my sleeping bag and bed down.
There will be no bothy fire tonight, no dreamy comfort watching the flames dance in the coals. Tonight I’ll watch the stars and curse my incompetence.
Read more here
https://johndburns.wordpress.com/2016/04/15/the-lights-fantastic/ 
