“Now, as we descend from the hills, we enter a deep dale....

“Now, as we descend from the hills, we enter a deep dale. The surrounding bowl of hills shelter the valley, and the sunlight rarely falls here in the winter months.

Lower down in this vale of shadow, months of snow have fallen and frozen, fallen and frozen. The road is a river of ice, slick and unforgiving. A harsh sweep of white iron, smooth as glass and cold enough to freeze any uncovered inch of flesh to the surface.”

— from the novel Sinful Folk