Misty morning, Loch Fyne

We went home this morning (Charlie too) after my night at the opera. It was a nice, soft morning as we crossed Loch Fyne on the ferry to Tarbert. Not a big breeze, so the yachts were just drifting along. By the time we got down the peninsula the wind had risen and the rain was coming down in lumps. A day to illustrate why the Scots have so many different words for 'wet'.