The Mist

As John and I returned from our travels to cross the bridge into Ocean Springs, a mist was flowing over the water and and across the land. We both exclaimed over the beauty, and my brother turned the car around to carry his sister to the perfect spot under the bridge for a photograph. 

The mist had moved rapidly, but still I aimed my camera, hoping for a hint of the beauty that had roused us from our travel weary state. This one, I think comes close.