As the sun gets nearer to rising on Saturday, the fog rises too, and nears town. The Cascades are no longer visible across the Sound.
fog roll 2
As the sun gets nearer to rising on Saturday, the fog rises too, and nears town. The Cascades are no longer visible across the Sound.
Early Saturday, the fog is rolling up over Marrowstone Island, with the distant Cascades showing above the fog line.
I took this on Saturday. Yesterday we had smoke, not fog, from all the fires. When I went out to my car, there was a fine rain of ash. The smoke frightens me and I feel like a child again, in a car with the smell of my father’s cigarettes, unfiltered camels. I feel edgy all day.
I would rather have the fog.
For photrablogger’s Mundane Monday # 125, a study of parallels. The fog is rolling in after the sun rises, and the rowers come in.
She lands again, in the top of a tree.
I am walking in my neighborhood without earbuds (5).
My neighbor bird takes off again. I catch her with my camera, barely.
And she lands again.
…to land in a tree across the street from me. She cranes her neck to look at me. Am I a weird relative? Am I holding a bird captive? Where are my wings?
Where are my wings? I want to know too.
I am walking without earbuds (3).
I am debating whether to walk closer, and continuing to make my pteradactyl noises, when my bird takes flight.
And flies over me, to land….
Oh! My mystery bird lands in a tree. A big tree. And I zoom in.
Is this a bird that you think of in trees?
I am walking without earbuds, watching and listening.
I take pictures and walk closer. This bird is silent, but I try to imitate it’s call. It knows I am watching, though I am a block away….
For the Daily Prompt: enamored.
I am submitting this to photrablogger’s Mundane Monday #123.
We have a lot of drift wood and both kids and adults build structures on the beach. Eventually a high tide takes them down, but they are often wonderful. I am inside this one, enjoying the blue water and the light color sand.
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