Today’s guest picture comes from my brother Andrew. It shows that while we may have sunrises in Langholm, he can match them with sunsets in Derby.
If the sun did indeed rise over Langholm this morning, we didn’t see it. We were covered in mist.
After breakfast, I decided to drive up to the White Yett to see if it was a day for getting above the mist and looking down on it. Mrs Tootlepedal stuck to her drive project and waved me goodbye as I drove out over her newly laid slabs.
There were fairly promising signs as I drove up the hill….
…and when I looked along it, the Ewes valley was full.
Sadly, this was a false dawn, and as I parked the car and walked up the track to the monument, it became plain that there was more mist above me than below me. Although the Ewes valley gave me this opportunity to see the power lines plunging into obscurity….
…looking down over the Esk, the town of Langholm was basking in sunshine….
…and I was walking up into thick mist…
…and looking down through thin mist.
Still, it was good to be up in the air on such a still morning, and the sun did its best to break through. I walked past the monument until I could just see the police aerial ahead of me…
…and then turned back, with the sun behind me in the hope of seeing a mistbow over the monument. Sadly the sun was too weak and the mist was too thick and I could hardly see the monument, let alone a mistbow.
It was annoying because I could see the blue sky above the mist and it was nearly a perfect day for sparkling misty shots. Since it was quite chilly at about 3°C, I didn’t stay too long in hope but made my way back down the track to the car.
The Ewes valley was pretty well clear by the time that I got there.
I walked up to the col to look over into the Tarras valley…
…and I met a keen runner out for his morning exercise who told me that there was a flock of the wild goats feeding a bit further down the road.
I went back for the car and drove down to investigate. He was quite right.
The goats were quite happy to let me walk up the road taking photographs of them…
…though many of them were too busy eating to pose for me.
They are quite impressive animals.
There must have been at least twenty goats spread across the moor and as I walked back down the road to the car, a noise behind me made me turn round. There was one last goat crossing the road to join them.
I had expected to find a coffee morning in progress in the garden when I got home, but Mrs Tootlepedal and Margaret had agreed that 4°C was just too cold for fun, even for such hardy souls as themselves. I joined Mrs Tootlepedal for coffee indoors.
After coffee, and with the temperature now at 5° to 6°C, I put on a lot of warm clothes and went for a bicycle ride. The days are so short now that unless you start early, there is not enough time for a long leisurely photographic outing so I pressed on to keep myself warm, and only stopped for a couple of token pictures on the way,
The winter gorse is always a cheerful sight beside the Gair road…
….but this view of a bare tree at Chapelknowe more correctly reflected the time of year.
Cold hands and feet are the winter cyclist’s bugbear and I am happy to report that my new socks and old gloves kept both sets of extremities very snug so I thoroughly enjoyed my ride, especially as what light wind there was, blew me home.
Two flowers caught my eye in the garden when I got back…
…but I was too late to see any birds at the feeder and a preening jackdaw in the walnut tree was the only bird in the garden.
After a cup of tea and a shower, I printed out some moorland pictures for Mrs Tootlepedal. My printer was in a recalcitrant mood so this took some time, and no sooner had I finished than it was time for a very cheerful sibling Zoom.
I cooked trout for our tea and that rounded the day off very nicely.
No flying birds today, but a group of birds in a neighbour’s tree, who to be fair must have flown to get up that high, take the flying bird’s place instead.