Strange is the mist
That has no face
That is
That was
That cannot be
Forever
That settles its breath
For miles
And cannot see
Where it was
Is going to be
Clinging to the mask
That will
Must
Break
Then rest in peace
Some other place
~ Gill McGrath © July 16 [photo taken 4.23 am July 6]
My little ode to the early morning mists which roll around over the river at the bottom of the hill carrying on upwards ~ defining the layers and dips beyond the ridge in turn revealing and masking the horizon~ only to disappear into the warmth of the rising sun.
Gill McGrath 
Nothing like mist .. nature’s shroud. 🙂
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❤
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This is the ultimate summer image for me: pink early morning mist and dewy sunshine. Beautiful.
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Thank you for your words, greatly appreciated ❤
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This is so beautiful….I love nothing more than early morning mists….and of course come August/September they seem to become even more dramatic. Thank you for the beautiful words and image. Have a wonderful weekend. Janet. x
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thank you so much Janet for your lovely comments here ❤
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You are welcome:)
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Mysterious and ephemeral
Love ❤
Michel
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❤
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Enjoyed your interpretation of the ever-changing mist, Gill.
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