Norman MacCaig describes a mountain scramble in bad weather with his usual perception and wit.

The piece, dating from 1969, can be found in the posthumous treasure-trove of his Collected Poems, edited by his son Ewen (Polygon, hardback £25).

BELOW THE GREEN CORRIE

The mountains gathered round me

like bandits. Their leader

swaggered up close in the dark light,

full of threats, full of thunders.

But it was they who stood and delivered.

They gave me their money and their lives.

They filled me with mountains and thunders.

My life was enriched

with an infusion of theirs.

I clambered downhill through the ugly weather.

And when I turned to look goodbye

to those marvellous prowlers

a sunshaft had pierced the clouds

and their leader,

that swashbuckling mountain,

was wearing

A bandolier of light.