Monday Morning: Into the Mist

We've had more fog than snow so far this winter season. Many mornings, I awaken to mist, which is just fine by me. This particular Monday morning was another misty one. I was working at home for the day, so I wasn't driving anywhere. So around daybreak, I wandered across the street and into a little farm field to watch the sun rise.

I couldn't resist including two shots of the Monday morning mist. The main shot above is the road across the street from our house. Just behind that second tree on the right is a tiny bus stop where I have been known to wait for the bus on a snowy winter's morning. (I know - it's tough being me, and being surrounded by all this rural beauty.)

The second shot (see extra photos) has the very same road in the background. But it includes in the foreground a few hay bales, as well as some of those cool, golden, whiskery plants that when we were children, we called "pumpkin finders."

There was a field of pumpkins above my parents' home for a few years in a row. We kids would pick up one of these golden weeds and pretend we could find pumpkins with it, as one might use a divining rod to find water.

On this particular morning, it almost seemed as though once the sun rose, the mist got even denser, more white, just as the light hit it. Then, when the orb of the sun rose behind it, it turned golden The mist was like a living creature, moving and changing; and walking through it, I felt as though I was one walking in a happy, golden dream.

The soundtrack for these two misty images is Bread, with a song from 1972 called Dream Lady.