The Mists of Time

It’s just a shame that on the last day of this warm and sunny spell we have been visited by a mist that was thick first thing this morning and has lingered all day despite the attempts of the sun to burn it off.
 
One of the Merry Widows has fallen foul of an arthritic hip and so rather than have her hobbling to Söderberg this morning we convened at her flat in Morningside instead. It could have been a pleasant 30 minutes walk across the Meadows and Bruntsfield in the sunshine but with the mist down at tree top level I gave in and took the bus. Her flat is beautiful and warm and we got cake to eat!

As usual we put the world to rights  which we find increasingly hard and I’m afraid to say the Felon across the pond took centre stage as is his wont. We decided that the appeasement process which  Britain and Europe is engaged in with Trump smacks a lot of what happened with Neville  Chamberlain  before WW2. We poor mortals just have to take a back seat while bullies do what they are best at and wreck world peace.

Walking home I missed the mist- hidden view of Arthur’s Seat to the east as I started down the path through the pitch and putt course although I could just make out the Castle to the north. 
There are not quite so many hardy souls sitting on the grass today. My phone says it 11° with bright sunshine which seems a bit of an exaggeration, certainly on the sunshine front.