Despite the best efforts of American film-makers who seem to believe that our country is permanently wreathed in smog (and that we all talk like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins) we don't really suffer serious foggage. Foggery. Fogginess. Whatever. But recent unusual weather patterns and unseasonal temperatures have left the country wreathed in pea-soupery. So it's not so much a White Christmas this year as a Grey Christmas that you can't see; at least beyond 100 yards. But it does make for pretty pictures. Oh yes.
Just outside the village is a tree that has pairs of shoes hanging from it like some kind of strange laced and leather fruit. No one seems to know how the 'tradition' started, but the current tree is the third to have appeared on this stretch of road. The first fell down. The second was cut down by some vandal with a chainsaw. But the third one is still up and sprouting more and more shoes by the month.
I must go and look for them sometime.
There are shoe trees all over the UK, America, Australia and Canada, and I'm sure there are many more in other countries too.
Anyway, I decided that this was a great photogenic opportunity to add my own pair of shoes to the tree. So I went home, found an old pair of boating pumps and headed back to get a bunch of shots, several of which I include for your bemusement and pity.