For Now We See Through A Glass Darkly

If a change in weather is what we hoped for, then that is what we got it this morning.
The rain had mercifully stopped, but we woke up to a world silently trapped in a freezing, wet mist.
His Lordship wearing his Wednesday smiley face, hung himself about with rucksack, walking poles and survival gear to do battle with the hills at Biggar.

He left and quickly disappeared into the mist just as I thought how unlikely it would have been for such an jaunty exit had I suggested an 8am expedition into a thick wet curtain of haar.
I doubt very much that I would have seen a smile.

But I had other fish to fry today, and I made a prompt departure to buy train tickets for a safari to West Yorkshire tomorrow to see the grandsons.
And then on through the gloom to buy bits and bobs at the equal shares emporium, before exiting into SUNSHINE.

I do believe people were standing stock still unable to believe their luck. The castle appeared from its shroud, as did the Calton Hill, and everyone suddenly looked happier.

We had heard tell of the South of England having temperatures yesterday of 18 degrees while we in the north, paying the same taxes, were enduring snow and sleet. But could we now allow ourselves to imagine such weather coming our way?

Well it appeared so for a while, and I managed to sit outside for my lunch before the mist gained the upper hand once more. With the sun's warmth dissipating, I retreated indoors.

The seagulls squatting on the marshes that constitute the Meadows, are sensibly not heeding the sun's game of cat and mouse and look to be there until they're absolutely sure that it's safe and visibility good enough to go to the seaside to fish.

Meanwhile I must pack. But do I pack for spring temperatures or winter temperatures? I'm not sure if West Yorkshire is halfway between 18 degrees and 2 degrees. I think I'll take the thermals just in case.