It is foggy today, the mist started this afternoon, a cloud coming down low, covering the sun as it set. Blurring and shadowing the skies colours. Now it is more dense, I drove up our hill and the lampposts disappeared, like white smoke was hiding them. It was hard to see through the fog, obstacles hidden until you were almost on top of them. There’s a set of traffic cones half way up our hill where a car partially knocked a wall down. I didn’t see it on the way up! I came home along a different road to avoid it.
I drove up into fog
Cloud coming down to greet me
November fog and mist banks.
Cold dank cloud
Overall grim and frightening
One huge hound
At the side of the road
Waiting to pounce
If you slow down…..
No not missing in the fog, just missing fog. I lived in flat many years ago and we were half way up a tower block. I remember looking out of the kitchen window and the clouds were below me. When I walked outside I was in fog. Cold and grey, but it made the world interesting and indistinct. Sometimes driving home at night we would encounter fog patches or banks of fog. Driving in and out of them made me very cautious. There were stories of people following the rear lights of cars into people’s drives because they hadn’t realised that the car had turned off the road and they had been following to find their way around.
These days we don’t seem to get much. Is the air dryer so mist does not form? Is the humidity of the air too low? I miss the fog
I took the photo in Hanley Park a few years ago. I really like the wonderful blurred areas of part of it, unfocused and softened. I like the way it removed colour, making the image monochrome. I miss fog…
The trees sat in a thin mist rising up from the pools. Moss making the paths slippery. Branches and twigs had broken off in the winds of the night before.
What walked out of that wood was not alive. It had risen during the darkness, disturbed by the roots of the trees. It looked out through the mist and watched for anyone passing close by. It waited without thought. Without intelligence, but with quiet patience. Darkness had started to fall again when it heard the sound of steps. Steady and strong. The steps of a man walking home through the wood. Taking a shortcut. As the moon brightened the pathway a figure lurched in front of him. And then they both sank down into the pool. Together forever.
A photo taken a couple of months ago I think. It was in colour but I changed it to black and white. It was taken at Hanley Park after a choir performance. The sun burnt through the must for a while but then it drifted back in again. Swirling round the bandstand and making it chilly again. But it was so atmospheric, literally!
I posted this on Instagram and my friend said she could see my third eye!
I like to be obscured
Hide my light
Under a bushel.
Blue and red and grey
Like an old TV set
With a cracked screen
A play for today
Not to implode
But dissappear into
The fog of time
Faded in the light
Singing in a bandstand is good because the roof helps the acoustics. Our group, called the Mystery Singers were out in the cold fog singing carols mainly to the empty park, although we did have a small audience. One group that totally ignored us was the local anti-vax group (or maybe the bah-humbug group). Very strange. They didn’t look happy.
At one stage the sun did come out and the temperature rose a few degrees but after a couple of songs the fog rolled back in again. I think people enjoyed our singing, we got some nice comments and applause. Now I’m warming up, it was freezing out there !
It’s forecasting snow again tonight… Then about 7am it’s saying fog…. Maybe it will be OK for a walk, maybe not…. New year’s eve could be interesting weather-wise. Maybe if there is a big enough accumulation I might try and make a snowman!
I just found this photo from a year ago. When we had a series of clear cold nights and the sunsets were amazing. This was taken at Alsager mere I think, although you can’t see many reflections on the water (mere is another name for a lake for example Windermere in Cumbria). I remember driving home after this and banks of fog were drifting across the road as I got close to home.
Misty and overcast, branches and twigs reach out like witches fingers. Darkening mist twists and turns. Hidden eyes watch as the gloom deepens. Footsteps trail through the bracken. Water lies in droplets across the dead and dying wood.
She had seen light from the footpath. A cottage.. A campfire? What was there. Goaded by her imagination she stepped off the path. Feet tangling in blackberries and vines. She stumbled and the branches reached down….