Driving out from Birkenhead this morning the sky was clear and blue but there was a grey haze of fog over Liverpool that dulled the bright light of the morning sun and suffused the Anglican Cathedral in a thrall of pale yellow light and dulled the sharp edges of the Cammell Laird cranes.
As I drove through Liverpool and up Brownlow Hill The blue sky was lost in the grey fog that shrouded the upper reaches of the city. The fog continued as I made my way onto the M62 and the slow traffic jammed drive past the north of Manchester and onto the way to Leeds. The sun was ahead of me now burning a bright white circle through the grey.
As the road crested over the Pennines it rose above the the fog and the soft golden light gave way to a crystal clear blue sky again with the sun bearing down with its heat. In the hills below the fog hung over the landscape softening its harsh lines.
Since then I have been stuck in the dark meeting room all day but coming out this evening all trace of fog has cleared and a late summer light lit up the last green in the trees and the smog of the city in the distance.
Could be the story of my life.