".....let that great sweeping wind blow the fog out of her soul..." L.M. Montgomery (Anne of Green Gables) It's biting cold. Our first proper frosty morning, with a nice dollop of fog to boot. Layering up, I tip toe out into the meadow. I get very little time in my week to enjoy these . . .
The haze was low this morning, wafting across the fields like an amber blanket. The combination of dawn and lingering mist is one to savour for any photographer. So even though it's still a bit foggy, my word for 2015 is "inkling" Inkling - a vague idea or notion, a slight understanding, hint, hunch, . . .
So the rain continued to bucket down all through July and alongside the accompanying sea mist, a kind of fog settled on my brain. The days melt into one and soon . . .