Golden threads
Wonderful things happen when the sun
Breaks through in a ball of golden glow.
The sunshine hitting cold ground
Creates an angel of light
As fog rises to meet the dawn.
Cobwebs strung across the fields
Are delicate, golden threads
And feathery fluff from wild flowers
Rests among friends in a field
Of golden bokeh.
(By the way, it started to snow here on November 1st!)
For more gold, please go to: Our World.
Transformative
Mist has magical powers:
It can transform ordinary objects
(Here a crane on the jetty in Ericeira, Portugal)
Into classic suspense movie shots.
It turns a sunrise
Into a moment of purple-tinged drama —
And if it lingers all day,
A misty sunset can turn
Landscapes into paintings.
For more mist-ical moments, please visit: Skywatch.
Delicious fog
A few weeks ago, I was out on a long walk.
It was eerily misty in the woods.
Suddenly, the sun broke through
Transforming everything into
Golden strips of light —
As if greeting the early morning
With a hallelujah.
For more beauty, please visit: Skywatch.
Tequila sunrise with a twist of fog
The sunrise starts off
In lilac tones,
But soon it turns
Into a blushing dawn
With bursts of orange
And fog.
For more great skies, please visit: Skywatch.
Romancing the snow
The romance of winter –
And the deep snow –
Never fail to surprise and please
When wrapped up in
A sky of pink tissue
And a bow of dreamy fog.
For more dreamy shots, please visit: Skywatch.
Mist, rising
The pink glow of the early setting winter sun
Enticed us outside to explore
The wonders just beyond the horizon.
It was a miracle of trees that
Seemed to float in the rising mist —
A wonder of purple and gold
Painting the fog with magic.
For more miracles, please visit: Skywatch.
Mist-ical magic
With no warning, the temperatures fell
And the fog with it.
Wonderful golden fog,
Each particle of the air alive
And singing with colour and life.
For more magic, please visit: Skywatch.
Of mist and rocks
At dawn, the old stone church across the lake bathes in golden light —
Amazing to think that 800 years ago, someone looked at a pile of rocks
And saw how they could be transformed into something so much greater than the sum of their parts.
And as the sun sets,
Don’t ask what the meaning of the birdsong or the setting sun is,
Just enjoy the beauty and let them be.
For more loveliness, please visit: Skywatch.
Delicious autumn
I love autumn and the autumn skies,
Especially the fireworks autumn puts on in the early mornings.
I’m invigorated by the sky’s soft blush,
The flamboyant colours of the leaves,
The dramatic harmony of sky and trees and water.
George Eliot put it so well when she wrote,
“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.”
For more deliciousness, please visit: Skywatch.
The miracle
It’s early. Very early.
The fog hangs in soft veils as I sneak outside, camera in hand.
Suddenly, a screech rips the sky in two to reveal
A single heron soaring in the blue dawn.
He is joined by two more – a feast for tired eyes.
They whirl, they dance, they leave me breathless
And speechless
Until they fade into the happily ever after
Of a new day.
For more miracles, please visit: Our World.
Who says what?