Penning Photography Daily

Rare enough in this part of the world, a combination of the right moisture and temperatures, of the air and the ground: Fog.

Dense fog advisories were out, and I should have got up with the chickens to capture the magical landscape that this prairie turns into under the influence of a confluence of atmosphere. I didn’t, and I am less the richer for laying in bed while others ventured out into a thick as pea soup commute.

I was ready though, when I did get out into it. My camera was set to capture some of that magic in the air.

This one was taken as I turned into the road that leads me into the city. It’s at a top of a hill, giving a nice view to the east, overhead wires the only blemish in the view. I stuck my camera out and gave it the best framing I could, then moved on. I took a few others, but nothing that gives more than the hint of mystery that fog brings.

It wasn’t too long after this that the fog was gone, burned off by the heat of the day forcing the moisture in the air to rise up or fall down.

I’m struck at how similar this scene appears like a cold winter’s day. Perhaps an internal reminder that the days are getting shorter and the nights will be much colder soon.

Robert Herrick wrote a poem, the lines of which just popped into mind as an apt illustration. It’s from his poem entitled “To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time”

Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today,
Tomorrow will be dying.

Soak it up folks, time’s a wasting.