cows and branches – I sense fog. Typically.
When my senses aren’t particularly keen, I rely on a friendly local weatherman or a handful of trusty “spotters” to alert me to the mist. It’s a rare occasion when I miss a fog day altogether.
This past year, however, was all about missing the fog. Either I was out of town when the fog rolled in or I was eyeball deep in work and was unable to find time to enjoy it. I can’t even express how it pains me to know that fog is there, waiting, wanting, willing to be a subject of my creative whimsy, but for some reason – whatever reason – I can’t be in the right *space* to collaborate with my favorite muse. It’s a longing pain. Poets have written about it for ages. It sits with you.
Okay, close drama.
Here’s the happy ending. I believe that one only needs a few good fog days a year to populate an entire portfolio of rich, moody images. This year I had four terrific, misty mornings. Four! (Yes, I count.) From that quartet of goodness, there are five images that will make it into the top 10. The first, cows and branches.
I had no idea that I was even dealing with a fog day the morning that I photographed cows and branches. When I woke up to drive to Galveston, visibility was ten miles – nothing, but clear Texas sky as far as the eye can see. It was only after I had driven about thirty minutes that I happened upon a sublime, mischievous pocket of mist. The fog spanned no more than half a mile; it was dainty in its breadth. Quite magical, really.
I only had about thirty minutes with the fog that morning, but a number of my favorite photos of the year were born in that half hour. This one, cows and branches, was my favorite from the batch.
Below are some additional images from that same foggy morning — reach and in the clouds.