Early Morning Mist

Our mornings start off chilly, and damp, usually with a lingering mist.

By noontime, we have dried out, and the sun shines brightly, offering pleasant enough days to get on with those pre-winter chores.

School children are enjoying their Fall break, distant sounds of laughter are heard as they play without a worldly care.

The hectic days of Christmas will soon be upon us, the rhythm of the seasons continue.  

 

It was one of those days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.

{Charles Dickens}

Ode To Autumn

An overnight freeze and ground still warm from a day of sunshine started  our morning with an eerie mist.

By noon, sunshine had returned, and garden chores were undertaken. Leaf-gathering, pot cleaning, and a general all around tidy up, giving one last chance to put the garden to rest for yet another season.

"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;

To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease,

For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells."

~ John Keats

Mist-Laden

 

The earth is soaked from three days of rain,  leaving us with an eerie landscape this morning.
Long winter days are now warming, blue skies and sunshine, what could be more soul-stirring.
Today reached a high of 73 degrees, balmy for a January winter's day.
Perfect for doing a few outdoor chores.
 

 

Morning Mist

 

Morning Mist

In the morning, skies so gray,
Before the sun lights up the day,
I chanced upon a morning mist
That left the leaves and grasstips kissed
With the aqua of the dew,
It left a feeling with me, too
Something old and something new;
Something that comes with the mist again,
Never what, but always when.

 

Author Unknown

Morning Mist

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn

Stand shadowless like silence, listening

To silence, for no lonely bird would sing

Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,

Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;—

Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright

With tangled gossamer that fell by night,

Pearling his coronet of golden corn.

~Thomas Hood : Autumn (1798-1845)



Morning Mists

Morning Mist

In the morning, skies so gray,
Before the sun lights up the day,
I chanced upon a morning mist
That left the leaves and grasstips kissed
With the aqua of the dew,
It left a feeling with me, too
Something old and something new;
Something that comes with the mist again,
Never what, but always when.

Autumn Mists

The morning mists, quietly gather and gently wrap the rain-soaked earth.

Morning Mist

In the morning, skies so gray,
Before the sun lights up the day,
I chanced upon a morning mist
That left the leaves and grasstips kissed
With the aqua of the dew,
It left a feeling with me, too
Something old and something new;
Something that comes with the mist again,
Never what, but always when.

Spring Storms

A night of restlessness.
Stormy, swirling skies, lightening bolts all around.
The morning mists, quietly gather and gently wrap the rain-soaked earth.

Morning Mist

In the morning, skies so gray,
Before the sun lights up the day,
I chanced upon a morning mist
That left the leaves and grasstips kissed
With the aqua of the dew,
It left a feeling with me, too
Something old and something new;
Something that comes with the mist again,
Never what, but always when.