Season of Mists

A quick glance out of the window at 7am this morning propelled me out of bed and out of the door to record one of the first of this year's Autumn mists hanging over the Meadows.
I just made it in time, another 15 minutes and the sun was high enough up to burn it off leaving long tree shadows on a dewy grass.

Later it was on to the altar of Sunday toast and the chance of an Internet connection as we still have not received our new modem.

One might think that a large monthly direct debit to BT might guarantee a next day delivery, but maybe my facetious remark that it was obviously being sent by sea from Mumbai is not so far from the truth.

Because His Lordship was up in Perth yesterday and not able to access the Internet, he found this morning he had 96 spam emails. It's the virtual equivalent of telephone cold calling.