Misty morning...

On our way to nursery we walk past a tower block. The laundry at the bottom is usually belching out lovely hot steam, just nice on a cold damp morning!


"The mist lies like a plaid on plain,
The dyke-taps a' are black wi' rain,
A soakit head the clover hings,
On ilka puddle rise the rings."

(J. Logie Robertson - from A Wet Day)