This morning the view that greeted my eyes as I descended from the mezzanine that serves as our bedroom at Les Terraces looked like this:

It is hardly a view to inspire confidence in a mid-summer day’s weather.  Unless,  of course, you’ve seen it before, which we have.  River mist is a regular feature of mornings in Sainte-Foy-La-Grande, both summer and winter.  By the time I’d paddled around making coffee, showering, fielding emails from clients, printing off the morning crossword and run a load through the washing machine things were beginning to improve:

Somewhat theatrically, the mist lifts and thins, and then teasingly descends again before dispersing completely (I thought that the cloud formations were pretty cool).  By lunch time everything was back to normal.

By 5 o’clock the temperature was a very comfortable 32° in the shade, and supper on the terrace very comfortable.  Time for me to get back to work – there’s a very demanding young thrush that we’ve nick-named “Mr. Chuckles” on account of the song that he makes on his approach to the bird-feeder (you can just make it out on the terrace wall) who us currently bouncing up and down on the wall letting me know that there is no bread there for him!