Cooler air once again, the temperature dropping to below 30 which feels like a treat, something that you need to take advantage of as it's unlikely to remain there for long. Skies traced by high clouds, greys and blues colliding, the northern hills sharp enough to pick out details upon slopes and summits.

On the mountain it's quiet, the heat climbing through the morning, midday arriving warmed and humid, gentle showers cooling the route along another unwalked path, descending alongside a small stream, a movement, the way paused, distracted by a blue magpie which has long gone by the time I manage to change lens.

Later, another long distance video call; the shared disbelief of de Piffle Paffle and the Brexshit crew being the government which now has to deal with racial inequality. Luckily he has an unblemished past regarding such, oh, wait, his history of derogatory writings, ah singing Kipling in a Myanmar temple, oh the Brexshit propaganda, the endless tropes of the "other", and wasn't there something about... the list goes on, his personal history undermining anything that comes out of his mouth on these issues now, having already shown where he stands, no more than political expediency. Meanwhile, off to the right, Priti Fatal continues with the endlessly recycled hardline law and order proposals; protesters now thugs and criminals, salivating over harsher laws, wider criminalisation, totalitarian instincts, wishing that she could just daft in a couple of battalions of Israeli peacekeepers. It's just too much to comprehend; on top of the continuing clusterbourach of the pandemic comes a social movement that the Tories are philosophically unable to empathise with while, in the background, the squelching sounds of chlorinated chickens coming home to roost...