The Norwegians have let me down. I usually find their weather forecast more reliable and less pessimistic than the Met. Office‘s. So with clear skies forecasted, a repeat of the cracking sunsets we have had this week was likely so with high hopes I opted for a late outing up to Little Roseberry.

Twilight, or evenfall or crepuscular, or just plain dusk, a magical time, that hour between sunset and true darkness. The Scots call is the gloaming, immortalised in Sir Harry Lauder’s music hall love song “Roamin’ In The Gloamin'”.

Roseberry Topping’s silhouette is unmistakeable; the lights of Middlesbrough were actually more pronounced than captured by the photo.


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