By a certain climatary quirk, while the sky today was crystal clear - indeed blue - as the day wore on the air itself gradually condensed into a weak mist. We could still see to Kit Hill and beyond but each subsequent ridgeline was feinter than the last. Somewhere, almost certainly, there was a professional photographer doing all the necessaries to end up with that perfect cropped shot of shaded hill tops.
Not me though. Suffering from lower back pain I was only up to shuffling along the tramway while Ros and Rachel, encircled by busy dogs, strode on regardless, legs striding, mouths and tongues working hard to produce an enviable stream of chit chat. And you can't get that on camera with ease.
In two weeks time or there abouts, it'll be March 20th - the Spring Equinox - and the next installment of our Down Tor Stone Row fascination. Just to recap, we found out that the row was Not a Winter Alignment. Not even close. So the next obvious appointment with the ancients would therefore be when the year was a quarter of the way through.
I have to say I've got some doubts, but you never know, we might end up with an Indiana Jones moment as the westering sun glints its way through the secret stone hole to alight a single beam on a singular pinpoint of rock that opens into a dank passageway ....
Of course, the chances are that it'll be wet with mist and the sun will be conspicuously absent. That never happens in the films does it, but then every one of those special moments takes place in a warm climate in the Summer. By definition, that can't happen here. The countdown continues.
Postscript. By virtue of another quirk, this one concerned with nomenclature, a row of new housing in the village has been named 'The Leat'. Naturally I'll be contacting my solicitor forthwith.