Friday mornings very low temperatures drew strands of freezing fog down the valley. You could see it was going to be a dawn to savour. I togged up and trudged up the lane for a better viewpoint. The rising sun caught under vapour trails of passing planes, I wondered what the dawn looked like from up there.
Then came more light
and magically as the sun tipped over the ridge, it struck the fog turning it into bands of gold.
And the geese* were back, honking as they came.
*I pondered what sort of landing they might make in fog, seeing what a dogs dinner they’d made of it the other day