Ghostly trees

The park LA Draga was swathed in mist when I arrived to take my English class this morning.

Not as thick as the fogs I remember from childhood when everything was blotted out, but then memories of childhood are always couched in extreme ways are they not? This was a fleeting mist, a wraith fleeing before the sun burnt through and dissolved its veils.

The colours were pleasant though, might ask Adam to do a watercolour for me, suppose the mist came from the slight frost, certainly not from rain, where is the blasted stuff, we are parched!!