For one reason or another misty days in London make you feel like you are in the countryside. The harsh lines of buildings and bricks are blurred and there is that sweet scent of damp leaves in the street. In the garden, trees drip softly onto the paving and the cats are all disgruntlement.
That was the weather today in London, except for a very short interlude when there was a subtle change in the light and the whole garden glittered with droplets of water, especially on the clothes pegs.
Now I must admit to feeling somewhat slatternly about leaving my clothes pegs on the line because, according to my friend's mother, they get dirty and soil the clean washing. She's right I suppose.
Such a pity she never gets to enjoy their jaunty, tipsy cheeriness when it's too wet to hang out the washing.