Busy old fool ...

Not the unruly sun, quite, of Donne's poem, but the prequel to it woke me this morning. I found myself standing at the open window trying to photograph it while Mr B slept on and I shivered; and as usual I found I hadn't really managed to capture the fiery red at the heart of the sunrise, but only a pale light surrounded by a rose that merely hints at what should be.

Never mind - that was all the sun we saw today; an hour later the sky was uniformly grey and it has remained that way.