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It had been a rough couple of days with high winds and rain leading to wet conditions on the ground and cold conditions on the fells.

As a result we saw the first "snow" of the winter on  the high fells on Tuesday 3rd November this year.

This late morning photo shows the result of that winter shower on the High Stile Ridge.

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However, three days later the conditions were quite different.  There had been mist in the valley all morning,

the cold air re-condensing the moisture that had been trying to evaporate away after the rains.

By lunchtime the sun, which had been fighting an in/out battle with the cloud, finally broke through

and a new season emerged, bringing autumnal colours back to the valley.

With the sun that far to the right of Mellbreak's summit it must be post-meridian . . . as the peak acts as a sundial for us.

The time is nearly 2 pm and the dogs and the camera need to go out for a walk.

A quick look around the garden as the mist clears . . . this is Low Fell seen from our roadside fence.

The long lasting flowers of a Rudbeckia in the garden are looking a little worse for wear.

I'm watched as I walk about enjoying the detail of the garden . . . whilst the others just sit and enjoy the sunshine and the views.

Ann enjoying the sudden warmth of the day.

If you like the last photo then let me double the pleasure.

Doubled again . . . chimneys on Muncaster House and rock chimneys on Grasmoor.

A crow lands on the fields between us and the river

as the mixed colours of Lanthwaite Woods inspire me, in my as yet undecided route home from from the lake.

A field oak retains its russet leaves despite the recent winds.	Grasmoor is now clear of cloud as we approach the Pump House.

Tranquil Crummock Water.

The last of the distant mist hangs in the air in this view up the lake.

The lake levels are still reasonably high leaving the tree on its small island by the wall.

The gravel from Park Beck has drifted around the outflow to form two shingle banks that reach out into the lake.

On the far side a family stops to enjoy the beach next to the boathouse.

Sound from the air cause me to look upward as a flock of geese head south in formation,

perhaps mirroring the outline of the Darling Fell and Low Fell summits that they have just flown over.

The mixed woodland alongside the lake path as we cross the small bridge and head down to the weir.

Colourful reflections at the foot of the lake.

Russet oaks, yellow larch, green firs . . . white cloud across Whiteside.

The view from the bridge which marks the starting point of the River Cocker on its journey north to Cockermouth,

where it joins the River Derwent and then heads west, eventually reaching the sea at Workington.

The calm water allows a smooth, wave-free cascade of water over the weir.

However the sheer volume of water today churns up the river as it flows over the fish ladder.

Ancient trees carried down river by previous floods lay grounded mid channel.

The cast iron lip of the lower weir a few hundred yards downstream is hidden

by the large volume of water flowing over it.

There's a cheerful chirping in the air as a tiny bird darts across the branches of the trees above my head,

it refuses to sit still long enough for me to identify it properly.

The best of a series of blurred photos make me think it was a wren . . . but then it could be the shape of a fat young robin ?

" Down at the Beech "

The dogs and I reach that part of the river where the beech trees tend to dominate the woodland.

A short woodland ascent from the river . . .	. . . brings us up onto the wide forest track.

A beech saplings catching the light.

I love the colours of these leaves in autumn and winter, so much so

that I've planted two of my bought-in hedge saplings as mini-feature trees in the centre of the paddock back home.

Brighter yellows on these two slightly more mature trees.

A delightful walk back along the track . . .	. . . brings me to the Scale Hill car park next to the road.

The ever changing clouds and the bright afternoon sun bring variety to the views as I walk back towards home.

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As hoped, the sunny afternoon was concluded by the strong rays of the sun

clearing a western cloud bank and shining directly across the tops of the fells.

Here the rich colours of sunset bounce back off the granite chimneys of Grasmoor that we saw earlier.

Time for a few chores, some supper and perhaps a little shared time in front of the fire.