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Mist
Its hand compassionate guards our restless sight
Against how many a harshness, many an ill!
Tender as sleep, its shadowy palms distil
Weird vapors that ensnare our eyes with light.
Rash eyes kept ignorant in their own despite,
It lets not see the unsightliness they will,
But paints each scanty fairness fairer still,
And still deludes us to our own delight.
It fades, regathers, never quite dissolves.
And ah that life, ah that the heart and brain
Might keep their mist and glamour, not to know
So soon the disenchantment and the pain!
But one by one our dear illusions go,
Stript and cast forth as time's slow wheel revolves.
by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
Yes, Winter is back! After a warm start into March first, we've had some very misty mornings, and as we are surrounded by many rivers and bogs it was really thick fog. Still, there are unmistakable signs that spring is near. The storks are back, looking for food in the wintry meadows, and in the sky you can see endless rows of cranes migrating north-east.
Skywatch Friday - Image-in-Ing - My Corner of the World -
Through my Lens- Travel Tuesday
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How beautiful and airy these images are. They have this a very delicate and eternal atmosphere. A flock of cranes high in the sky is magnificent.
AntwortenLöschenBest wishes to you, Isabella.
I love the misty atmosphere.
AntwortenLöschenWorth a Thousand Words
Oh my! Gorgeous! These should be framed!
AntwortenLöschenThank you for sharing at https://image-in-ing.blogspot.com/2023/03/tasty-and-pretty-how-much-more-could.html
I grew up in the mountain west of the United States and it was so dry mist was not something we ever had. When I moved east after college I was entranced my mist. So mysterious, so wet!!
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