Bridge

This morning, predictably, was a rather quiet one. I made it across to The Royal to have breakfast with Rob and Rich, before returning to bed with my current book, 'Do The Birds Still Sing In Hell?' (My review is here.)

By early afternoon I was sufficiently recovered to shower and tidy up a little, prior to The Minx's arrival. Once I'd broken the news that I wouldn't be able to stand by my plans - texted to her late last night - to attempt the Kirkby Lonsdale Eight again this evening, we pottered about a bit and then set out just before four for a little Teenage Daughter Taxi Service activity.

As we were driving down the Burton road, the sun was just setting behind the hills around Beetham and Storth, and the sky was a tremendous deep golden colour. Sensing a photo opportunity we looked for somewhere to pull over but we could see we were losing the beautiful light.

Turning onto a bridge over the canal I stopped and run onto the bridge over the motorway but I was too late. But I did get this photo of the bridge, which, in the end, I was rather happy with.