MISTY MORNING

 

Mist low-anchored cloud, 

Newfoundland air, 

Fountain head and source of rivers, 

Dew-cloth, dream drapery, 

And napkin spread by fays; 

Drifting meadow of the air, 

Where bloom the daisied banks and violets 

And in whose fenny labyrinth 

The bittern booms and heron wades; 

Spirit of the lake and seas and rivers, 

Bear only perfumes and the scent 

Of healing herbs to just men's fields. 

~Henry David Thoreau~

A few years ago Gregg and I rented a cabin in late Fall near Luray.  It was called Misty River and, as you might guess by its name, the cabin overlooked the river.  It was our aim to get up as early as we could each morning and explore our temporary neighborhood.  I took this photo of Gregg walking up the lane.  Our weekend rental was aptly named.  The whole weekend we had misty mornings.  No telephone, no TV, no internet.   A bucolic view across the river by day, when the mist had cleared, and in the evenings?  Hot chocolate by a roaring log fire.  A perfect weekend away!