Woke up to snow. That wet, slushy snow that soaks through your shoes and leaves you with blocks of ice in place of feet.
And the sleet continued all morning. The forecast was for it to stop at three and at three it did. Right on cue. An hour later the grey clouds were clearing and the sun was making a show before setting. And footsteps on the snow gave off that familiar crunch indicating the temperature had dropped. Brilliant.
It wasn’t until I got home that I realised the dog had got herself in this picture of the Cleveland Hills as I walked down Aireyholme Lane back to the village.