I can remember this morning like it was yesterday…Sebastian has just left for work at 7am and I happened to look out of the window, to be greeted with a beautiful, heavy shroud of mist. For me, waking up to mist is only second to waking up to snow. There’s something about a misty morning that excites and satisfies my whole being.
I wolfed down a bowl of cereal while standing at the window. It was almost as though by standing their and observing the weather I thought that I could make sure that the mist didn’t disappear on me.
I didn’t boil some water for tea, as I always do, not did I wash. I threw on some clothes, grabbed my camera and tripod and jettisoned myself outside and into the forest. I wandered through the trees until the sun appeared to soak up the mist and lift away that haunting atmosphere.
I can remember when I posted this image on Facebook, about twenty minutes after returning home, Sebastian said it looked like a scene from The Wolfman. I have to agree…and the longer I look at it, the easier it becomes to imagine a wolfish shape emerging from through the trees.