Tuesday, August 21, 2012

The Mist over the Moors

I don't suppose we think of them as moors in the United States - here comes your definition of the day: a tract of open, peaty, wasteland, often overgrown with heath, common in high latitudes and altitudes where drainage is poor; heath. That being said, I don't suppose what I'm seeing can be defined as a moor. Marsh? Bog? Meadow! Semantics, I say.

This is my what the view from the train was like riding into the big city this morning. (P.S., thanks, Kurt) There's something magical about the mist, and it has been like this frequently over the past two weeks. Some areas are very dense, others already beginning to burn off. When you look into the mist, don't you imagine all kinds of things that might suddenly walk into view? (or maybe it's just me with that overactive imagination again). The playful part of me wants to photoshop all kinds of different images, from a dragon, to a highlander, to a knight in armor, to a couple hand in hand. The zombie apocalypse! The possibilities could go on and on. Secrets, shrouded in the humidity rising above the rain-soaked land. A peaceful way to start a day, wouldn't you say?

What would you photoshop coming out of the mist?

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