A FINE MIST

To Rowardennan where ours was the only vehicle in the car park and we had the track toward Inversnaid to ourselves. A light drizzle, not enough to stop us striding out through the gentle mist. Thankful to Blip for making me take my camera even on the apparently 'dull' days. The woods were bright with the bronze bracken, the red pine boles and the silvery lichen. And over it all the soft veil of shape-shifting mist, teasing as it revealed islands, headlands and lonesome pines. In our family, it is our weird habit to argue about the colour of a mist. This one was definitely pink.
Thereafter to the Pottery at Drymen, where we partook of a 'half - killer breakfast' before a roaring log fire. Both of these pleasures almost made it to the blip, but can we seen here instead.