“A foggy day in London Town” – and pretty much everywhere else, as far as I could make out. Earlier in the week, your correspondent had entered into a pact with T (old friend and weight loss buddy) to take a walk in Blenheim Park this morning. The fact that it was foggy, freezing and -as far as your correspondent was concerned – the middle of the night, did not deter us.
It was cold – my fingers were frozen through two pairs of gloves – one of them thermal – and treacherously icy underfoot. The fog was so thick that such landscape as was visible was more like Egdon Heath than Capability Brown’s English-Rural-Idyll theme park.
Even so, if you squinted through the fog, it was clear – so to speak – that there was some sun and even a brightness to the day. Meanwhile, through the ethereal silence, came the patter of water dripping from trees in large urgent splodges with the intensity of a defrosting fridge or a Walt Disney spring – so there was heat of a kind – just not very much.
More pictures at Blenheim in Winter – and don’t tell me that that isn’t a magic tree or that those woods aren’t haunted!