ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Foggy mornings, muted colours. Haloes round the street lights form.
Damp and quiet, cloaked in softness, diamond dew drops greet the morn.
Silver trails across the paddocks where the cattle quietly graze.
Slowly old Sol rises up, dispersing fog with fiery rays.

Distant mountains safely hidden 'neath a grey and foggy shroud.
Tree tops seem to be suspended in a bank of misty cloud.
Disembodied tail lights wink along the highway ribbon home.
Walking in the foggy morning one seems to be quite alone.

Sounds emerge from foggy depths. Who? What? Or from where.
Faint, distorted underwater noises echo in the air.
Distant lowing of the cattle… though you can’t see them at all.
Foggy mornings, muted colours, nature’s hazy soft grey pall.


Maureen Clifford ©

That's the picture Maureen. For some reason ( some will think of one ) I enjoy the foggy country mornings. The fog seems to bring onto the landscape a sense of calm and quietness ,as you have depicted, which soothes my "spirit" somehow.

Glad you two blokes enjoy foggy mornings as well - they fascinate me the way things loom out of the greyness -( not roos and pigs or cows though) and just as quickly disappear and the sound is always distorted seems to come from completely different directions and then as the sun burns the fog off the trees display their ankles then their knees - erotic stuff fog if you think about it...natures dance of the seven veils....I see a Haiku in that