The normal state, and the reversal

In the lower atmosphere, air usually gets colder as you go up — about 6.5 °C per 1,000 metres on average. The reason is that the ground is heated by the sun and warms the air in contact with it, so the heat source is underneath.

That arrangement is unstable in a useful way. Warm air near the ground is less dense than the air above it, so it rises, mixes, and carries heat, moisture and pollution upwards with it. Convection is why afternoons are breezy, why clouds form, and why smoke disperses.

A temperature inversion turns that upside down. A layer of cold air ends up sitting below warmer air. Now the dense air is at the bottom, which is a stable arrangement — nothing wants to rise, so nothing mixes. The cold layer becomes a sealed compartment with a lid on it.

Almost every consequence of an inversion follows from that one fact: the air stops mixing vertically.

How they form

Radiation inversions — most nights, in fact

The everyday kind. After sunset the ground radiates heat to the open sky and cools. It cools the thin layer of air touching it, and by the small hours you have cold air at the surface with warmer air a few tens of metres up.

Three things make it strong:

Which is the same list as for a frost, and not by coincidence — see at what temperature frost forms.

Cold air drainage — why valleys are worse

Add a slope and the cold layer starts moving. Cold air is heavier, so it flows downhill like water and collects in the lowest ground available.

The result is a frost pocket: a valley bottom, a hollow, or the low corner of a garden that is reliably several degrees colder than ground a short way up the slope. It is also why a solid fence across a slope can make frost worse behind it, by damming the cold air that would otherwise have drained away.

Subsidence inversions — the multi-day kind

Under a large area of high pressure, air aloft descends slowly and warms as it compresses. That warming air forms a lid well above the surface, and unlike a radiation inversion it does not break at sunrise. It can persist for days, and in a basin or an enclosed valley it produces the classic winter smog episode.

What you get underneath the lid

Effects of a stable trapped layer, and why each one happens.
EffectBecause
Valley frostCold air drains to the lowest ground and stays
Morning fogTrapped moist air cools below its dew point
Smog build-upEmissions cannot disperse upwards
Flat-topped smokeRising plume hits the warm layer and spreads sideways
Sound carrying furtherSound refracts back down towards the ground
Very still airStable layering suppresses turbulence
Freezing rainSnow melts in the warm layer, refreezes on cold ground

The last one is the dangerous one. A warm layer aloft with sub-freezing air beneath it melts falling snow and then supercools the drops before they land, so they freeze on contact. Ice storms are inversions with precipitation.

Spotting one without instruments

The gardening consequence worth acting on

On a clear still night, the coldest spot in your garden is the lowest one, and it can be several degrees below what the forecast says. If you have a choice about where a tender plant sits, put it partway up the slope and against a wall rather than in the hollow at the bottom.

Why this matters for a temperature reading

An inversion is the sharpest example of the point made in hyperlocal weather: two correct readings a mile apart can differ by more than the forecast's own error bar.

It also explains a specific frustration. On the nights when the exact temperature matters most — frost, pipes, tender plants — the atmosphere is doing the one thing that makes a regional number least applicable to your garden. Clear and still is precisely when the layers stop mixing and local differences reach their maximum.

Which is the practical takeaway: on a calm clear night, treat the forecast low as an estimate for the area and assume your low ground will be colder.