Cloudy thinking

Today I am living in a cloud.
A great grey cold and clammy cloud.
It has erased the hill above me,
And the vast green valley below.
Erased, replaced by a great grey sea.
Sound still travels across the abyss,
The eerie song of birds you cannot see,
The occasional car, or even rarer voice.
Out in the sticks solitude is your adversary,
With only your thoughts to protect you
From the shapeless insubstantial enemy,
Of loneliness.

by Izzy Silver

Reservoir, British Camp, Malvern Hills

 It was a delightfully misty start today. Decided again to try and capture the beauty of mist rising in gentle spiralling curls from the reservoir. I think maybe to get that effect you need the water to be warmer, but I am rather happy with these shots.

It felt less like Worcestershire and rather more like a romantically bleak Scottish loch side. If you look carefully you can just about make out the lone coot that was swimming about on the reservoir. (A coot is a black water bird with a single white splodge just over it's beak.)