Thursday, July 24, 2014

Seeing through Fog













There's nothing like a decent foggy morning to head out with the camera, have taken some of my favourite shots at such times.
















From our vantage point part way up the mountain, sunrise can be particularly dramatic as the thick blanket below picks up the sun’s rays and moves, a golden inland sea, a fluid thing shifted by the breeze and the slowly rising temperature.











Hilltops appear as islands, the contours of the landscape resemble a coastline as the relentless white sea ebbs and flows.














It can remain on the valley floor for hours, but at times creeps ever so slowly up the foothills and envelops us as well. It would be easy to believe our village has been spirited away at such times. Then what we usually see is obscured either partially or totally, and with the distant horizon gone our focus has to change, stop straining to see what we know is there but is hidden from view. Instead of waiting for the big picture to return, what is revealed as we focus on what is closer often highlights hidden delights.                                                                                                                                                                                                                  
The footprints of some small animal returning home after his nightly outing, followed by those of the early morning golfers crazy enough to aim for flags unseen from the tees, peering into the distance as their white balls are hurtled into the unknown and swallowed up.













Cobwebs jewelled with dew, a shrub transformed with its ethereal shroud woven in the night, a magical hiding place for the tiniest forest nymphs. If it were a fine morning these marvellous creations would go unnoticed.


























Even the beastly monolithic towers conveying power to the masses take on an other worldly aura as they rise like H.G. Wells’ killing machines from The War of the Worlds.






Blurred lines, muted colours, quiet, numbing cold. Even morning birdsong has been put on hold. Only the crows and currawongs have seen fit to emerge from the relative warmth of their nests.


Peering into the fog, we will our eyes to penetrate the barrier, a useless exercise. It forces us to change our focus. For most of us, our life’s journey can often feel the same in our attempts to find a clear way forward. Sometimes, we simply need to set aside the controlling, all knowing and all seeing creatures we may wish to be who want all the answers right here and now, and look at what is right in front of us. Taking notice of the here and now, playing, smiling and making someone’s day, recognising the beauty around us, appreciating the little things, being thankful for each other, things that may seem insignificant in the moment, but which make up the fabric of what makes us more human. 

Do one thing at a time. Be patient.

The fog will eventually lift.