It's a beautiful morning, one of those days when the weather transforms the mundane world outside into one of mystery. The frost, the first real one this winter, is slowly melting. The remaining dampness intensifies the colours of stone & bark. There is also a freezing fog. It ebbs & wanes. Occasionally shrubs magically appear then disappear. You're never quite sure what you will see next, always varying. Mr Blackbird hops around disconsolately, seeking his breakfast. Sound is muffled in the cotton wool of the fog. Gorgeous. Other worldly.
Or at least gorgeous when viewed from the welcome warmth of home. Not a day for going out unnecessarily. And certainly not for driving.
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