misty landscapes
Call me a fog junkie. I have chased misty mornings in many places, but I keep coming back to the Pines.
The open bogs and rivers here do something special. Mist rises from the water in layers, drifts through the trees, and softens everything. For a while, the landscape feels unfinished.
Then the light begins to break through. It filters through the mist and branches, spreading in soft layers across the scene as shapes slowly take form.
Suddenly, everything comes together. The mist holds the light. The trees emerge and dissolve at once, the whole scene suspended between what is visible and what is not.
It never lasts long. Slowly, it begins to fade.