It looked better at the time

Over the pass this morning. A bitter wind in Fiesole. Slightly better at the house but then it deteriorated when I slid over in the mud of the new field whilst burning up the big piles of tangle.

Winter hangs on. The tramontana still blowing hard outside and sucking all the heat from the flat. No wonder people are bad tempered.

This sprinkling of snow had disappeared as I went back over the pass this evening, even though it was colder than in the morning.

On the way out I stopped at the summit cafe for a cappuccino and a pasta alla albicocca and a large piece of salame and mushroom schiaciatta.