I love foggy days... actually I've always loved the fog. Growing up in the Green Mountains of Vermont, fog was a very common thing. Virtually every night and every morning were foggy. I loved how the sun would break through as it got high enough in the sky to reach our little valley. Every morning the lawn would be covered with damp little cobwebs about six inches in diameter. It took a lot of discipline to get going on those summer days as it would be 10:00 a.m. before the sun would climb high enough to be seen in the east beyond the river and the hills. It's not common to see much fog here at Oak Lawn, and if you want to enjoy it, you need to be up and out by 5:00 a.m. generally. I wonder if I would do well in coastal Washington State... I love the colors in the gardens on damp cloudy days. I do appreciate those early summer mornings when the light is just right and I wander the gardens camera in hand...
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It was foggy when the Salome daffodils were in bloom |
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And just before the flower buds of the tree lilac were to open |
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And lightly lay over the path to the gazebo |
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There was a fog when the tree peonies began to bloom |
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And a fog lay over the neighboring duck sluice and pasture as cows looked on |
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And on another day, fog hung close amongst the aesculus blossoms and birch |
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Plantings appreciated the moist air |
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And where there was a canopy of foliage, the fog often laid just above, enshrouding the gardens |
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Giving a sense of protection |
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And from within the Rhodie glade, one could view the fog in the surrounding lawns |
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An air of timelessness pervaded this small speck of land |
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And the limits of the world are but for a moment contained in this gardening place |
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Fog nourished the plantings, but also my time on earth |
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And that of the living creatures |
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And the fruits |
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And all life was enriched with life sustaining moisture |
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And if you believe that "time began in a garden" |
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You can't help but feel closer to your Creator |
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On a a foggy morning |
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