For a couple of days the heated towel rail has been occupied by wet walking gear.

It was damp on Sunday, wet on Monday, and foggy this morning.

And yet all three days I have felt exhilarated by my walks with Polly dog.

Fortunately she doesn’t seem to care what the weather does – unless there’s thunder, she’s terrified of thunder.

So my mantra is, when I can remember it: Get Out There!

I know it’s hard when you pull the curtains in the morning to be greeted by the damp and grey. But just think how vibrant the colours will be out on the cliffs.

Fog I find interesting.

Unless it’s dangerous, because you’re on unfamiliar ground, and at the risk of getting lost, I have come to believe that fog intensifies experience.

In the fog you concentrate on that limited visibility range that you have around you. I remind myself to notice as much as I can.

It’s often the exciting colour of winter bracken that I notice first, and then the intensity of the greens.

Today up in St Just visibility was low, and it was very damp. But the dog has to walk, and so, therefore, do I.

The hard part is getting your head into gear. Then it’s OK.

A couple of steps from the house and I was already planning our route.

I’d soon forgotten it was wet.

Descending into Cot Valley the fog cleared a little, but was replaced by rain. Well at least we could see further.

At Penanven (Porth Nanven) the clouds were sitting high on the cliffs, and we were treated to a couple of seals playing just off shore in heavy seas.

Striding back up through Bosorne the lamas and emus looked bedraggled, but remained as interested as ever in the passers by.

Back at home, layers stripped, a good shower, and now at my desk I know I’ve already had a little adventure and the prospect of the day ahead is a good one.

Wet weather? Get out there!