From what I see out of my window this mornng, John Keats should have been a weatherman instead of a poet! I managed to grab a while in the buff earlier, enjoying a cuppa and a ciggie in the back yard, and was pleased to find that in spite of the grey dankness the air was pleasantly refreshing.
The 'mellow fruitfulness' bit is also true - the river bank near my home is full of fruiting blackberry bushes which are being regularly raided by keen pickers.
And as I type this, I notice that the mist has developed a quite eerie brightness as a hidden sun struggles to break through.
Isn't nature wonderful?
But life must go on! Off to town this morning for breakfast with friends and then to the Sleaford Swim tonight. It's set to be a very pleasant weekend. Shame Monday will come round again so quickly!!