Of course it’s lovely when the sun shines, but I also have a soft spot for those days on the east coast when a sea fret rolls damply in off the North Sea, blanketing the villages in a thick, soft mist.
Not that I’d fancy sailing in it (or even driving in it, for that matter), but on foot, with lined trousers, heavy boots and a thick wool jumper to keep the cold out, it feels like you might be drifting through the clouds. Everything seems much quieter, and visibility is so low that you feel gloriously isolated and miles from anywhere, even though you’re scarcely a minute’s walk from the nearest house. The moisture hangs prettily in the spider webs that line the hawthorn hedges, and anyone who’s at home has the fire lit, so from time to time you catch the comforting scent of coal smoke. I’m quite looking forward to getting my own fire going once I finish my work later this afternoon.
These pictures were taken round ten this morning.