Pedalling to peewits

In the hope of finding sunshine, I headed off up the valley, where I wasn't disappointed.  At all! It was a cold start to get there but this next stretch was sublime.  I had a moment with lapwings tumbling and calling around me that was incredibly uplifting.  

A strange thing had happened just before here.  Drips of water were coming off the trees despite there having been no rain.  It took me a while to register even after seeing a white (I just thought old) group of trees in the distance.  I started noticing grass where ice had fallen from the stems.  It was quite peculiar in a few degrees of warm sunshine and no other frost in sight.  When I actually came close to some trees higher up, it was then that I realised that it had been freezing fog overnight and the trees were coated in thick rime or hoar ice (I'm not quite sure how I'd tell the difference.)  The trees higher up were only just shaking it off as I went by so I stopped to watch them while I ate a sandwich.

I had the sun for another joyous hour before heading back into Wharfedale's cold and moody mist-filled valley.