A weekend in Yorkshire. It was foggy when we got up.It was foggy when we travelled from my step-daughter for lunch with my sister. It was foggy when we left my sister, and it was foggy until we headed south again. And so here is a view across from my sisters home across a rural valley to the village opposite, and in the distance to the left can be seen moorland that rises to join the famous Ilkley Moor, where, according to the folk song, lovers will catch their death of cold if they go courting without a hat. At least that would be the view if it wasn't for the fog.
