When I was a bachelor, I liv'd all alone
I worked at the weaver's trade
And the only, only thing that I ever did wrong
Was to woo a fair young maid.
I wooed her in the wintertime
And in the summer, too
And the only, only thing that I did that was wrong
Was to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew.
(Old English folk song, circa 1815)
Now I'm no fair young maid for sure, but there isn't a bachelor on earth who could keep me from the foggy, foggy dew. Those foggy morning walks with Shiloh are some of my favourites - like walking while cocooned in a cotton puff, noises muffled, peaceful solitude, beautiful photo ops as the rising sun tries its hardest to shine through the mists. I can stand on the shore gazing through my camera's lens for hours. As much as I love crisp sunny mornings, I think I love the foggy ones even more. These shots are from this morning's walk:
7:45 AM |
8:15 AM |
8:30 AM |
Barrow's Goldeneye |
8:45 AM |
Fog lifting on Maple Mountain |
"What's she babbling on about?" "I dunno - just ignore her! " |
4 comments:
The pictures are beautiful and I can see why you love it so much, good job.
Lovely!
hi jean,
this is ron, sophie doodle's dad.
your photos are so serene in the fog. i understand the feeling you have while slipping through the fog. we have a lot of fog along our coasts too and hearing the foghorn far off in the distance, well just completes the picture.
thanks for discovering my blog and i have found yours now.
cheers
Welcome to my blog, Ron! I'm just a block or two from a ferry terminal, so the sound of the ferry horn starts my morning early on foggy days. As you say - that sound completes the picture.
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