The forecast was for mist, which meant the distinct possibility of again seeing some inversion phenomena. I woke up early to find fog duly sitting outside the window and the prospect of classic conditions. It looked far more promising than it had on Tuesday.
Sadly, though, the mist had engulfed the whole moor and we were unable to top out. What's most magical about inversion layers and brocken spectres and fogbows is that they're entirely unpredictable.
It wasn't only E who I had dragged out on a fool's errand. I persuaded another friend out of her warm bed on a freezing cold morning. And into a bog. Sorry K! Of course, we met Bex up there too, emerging out of the mist on the way to the apostles. Jason was around too, but we missed each other. There weren't too many other people about.
Later, having finally warmed up again, I headed out on my own, feeling guilty that the mist had cleared to leave an afternoon of ethereal light.