The Magical Morning Of Mist

You never know when magic‘s about to occur.

Yesterday Joss and I set off for the moor in thickest fog (yet again)….only to arrive there and find ourselves in an extraordinary sort of fairyland. 

Great, huge clouds had come down to earth.  Dense, white pillows were nestled in the valleys while strands of cotton candy drifted about the moor like shape-shifting ghosts. 

It meant I could face in one direction and see a vista stretching for miles under a sky of clearest blue.  But, turn forty-five degrees, and the fog was so thick I could barely see the dog in front of me.  Forty-five degrees more and the aspect opened out again, with ribbons of mist lying across the landscape in the most beguiling way.

Joss and I moved in and out of the cloud as we wandered about the fell.  Things visible one minute had disappeared the next.  People loomed suddenly into view then vanished.  Faint wreaths of mist, wide-open skies and all-enveloping greyness swapped and changed constantly.

Seasoned dog walkers were going into raptures; tourists running about with cameras and binoculars. 

It was far and away the most spectacularly beautiful morning I’ve ever known on the moors.  It was true magic.

(I'm taking part in Mosaic Monday over at Little Red House today.  If you have a few moments, take a look at some of the other lovely collages posted there...)

Comments

[Chesteraud]

What a beautiful description of your morning on the moors. Felt as though I was there with you.

[jeandly]

These are such beautiful images and your description is so clear that we're able to share it all with you. Thank you.

[Tracy]

VERY magical, Helen... Loved your descriptive walk...We've been covered in mist and fog for weeks here too. :o) Happy Days ((HUGS))