30 December 2009

Fog on the terrace

When the edge of the world closes in, the world becomes huge
Fog changes the world. Everything stays the same; everything's different. Anything could appear through those trees and walk towards you.


All content © 2009 Pete McGregor

12 comments:

Emma said...

IT HAD BETTER NOT WALK TOWARDS ME!
[Love the shot, though.]

PATERIKA HENGREAVES, Poet Laureate said...

Wow!

Much food for thought for deep-thinkers.

The foggy condition in the weather is so freaky.

Happy New Year

butuki said...

I love walking in mist and fog; it makes the mountains and woods and seashore so mysterious and rife with possibility. That's not to say it isn't scary sometimes, though. One time at about three in the morning when I went for a walk in the woods just outside the University of Oregon, it was foggy and still. I was alone on a path that tunneled through the trees when suddenly up ahead this tall man in a black cape...yes, cape!... and tall black hat stood there in the middle of the path with his arms crossed. It was too dark to see his face, but I imagine he was watching me. THe only way through the woods back to where I lived was past him so I started walking toward him and he didn't budge. So I started singing at the top of my lungs and marched right past him. The hair stood on the back of my neck as his figure panned past, but nothing happened. When I got past him I looked behind and he was still standing there facing away from me, arms crossed. I have no idea what he was doing, but I'm sure he probably was just as scared as me hearing this guy at three in the morning singing "Let It Be!" walk past him!

butuki said...

Happy New Year!

Barbara said...

The Celt in me feels this echoing in my bones ... and, oooh, the shimmering lace of that spiderweb is rather enchanting. Cool story, Butuki.

Clare said...

Magical. Is the grain an artifact from the photo or added later?

I do love the fog, although up here it brings such a chill with it, even on our finest days. My favourite foggy days were in a blind, watching geese fly low to the ground, suddenly manifesting themselves out of the mist just yards away, giving weight to their voices.

robin andrea said...

Ah, I love synchronicity, as I type this the fog is thick and heavy outside my window. Even the closest trees are indistinct and ghostly. It silences the world.

pohanginapete said...

Emma, ha! ;^D Still, who knows what wonderful things it might offer?

Paterika, thank you, and a happy New Year to you also.

Miguel, that's truly freaky. Maybe he was the Hobgoblin (you could have tested that hypothesis by offering him pancakes and jam)? Happy New Year to you too :^)

Barbara,the webs that morning were spectacular. The spiders must have been really annoyed though — no breakfast until the webs dried out :^)

Clare, thanks. That's a great image of the geese appearing so suddenly, so close, out of the mist — I love it and would have loved to have been there. I added the grain during post-processing; to my mind it suited this photo particularly well, adding a feel otherwise not fully realised.

Robin, that's great — I'm a fan of synchronicity too. We don't often get true fogs here, but when we do, I always get a thrill from them

christy lee-engel said...

I love fog too! I grew up near San Francisco, foggy so much of the time year-round, and so fog is always nostalgic for me no matter where it is.

Gorgeous photo, and I love the caption just as much!

pohanginapete said...

Thanks Christy :^) Happy New Year

Teresa from the valley said...

Gorgeously creepy, I would love to go shooting photos when the valley's like this (what time of the night was this by the way), but my imagination would get the better of me and invent things that made me run home...

pohanginapete said...

Teresa, it was actually early morning. It certainly stimulated the imagination, but I didn't find it creepy — more like a thrill, with tinge of possibility.