Play misty for me ...

It's strange how both mist and snow can be almost felt from indoors, even before you actually look out of the window - especially when it's dark.I don't know what's going on with my sleep patterns just now, but when I woke at 6am the bedroom seemed full of grey light, and it wasn't much better at my proper wake-up time of 7.30am. In between, as well as when I went to bed last night, I was suffering from the racing brain that seems to rev up the moment I put the light out. (Maybe the clue is in that wee infinitive verb there, given that it's probably this business of finding a new rev that fills my brain at idle moments ... sorry!)

I walked down through the still misty town to my painting class this morning; the sun was just visible above the firth as I came back home again at lunchtime. (I was learning how to paint sky properly today - big clouds with shades of grey ...) I was so tired when I arrived, and so cold, that I just flopped in front of the fire, and in fact did nothing at all for about an hour. Then the usual meal on a Tuesday - a rather delicious aubergine and pesto pasta - followed by the usual collapse in front of catch-up TV. By now, annoyingly, the sky had cleared and there were some pink sunset clouds ...

As we left the house for choir practice, I realised that the mist had returned, and the rather dramatic photo above is the result. I'm looking across the town to the school, where the floodlights are on over the pitches and illuminating the great billows of mist, like smoke, covering the hill on which the school stands. Another full rehearsal tonight had us working on the songs for the first of two December gigs, ending up with Leonard Cohen's Halleluia  - it always goes down well and we love singing it. 

It's past midnight again now, but I was too full of toast and marmalade to do more than doze downstairs for a bit. I'd like to sleep properly now!