Mist Trees…

For the Weekly Photo Challenge: Eerie

CreepingMist by MoonVooDoo HayMountainInTheMist by MoonVooDoo MistTrees by MoonVooDoo SunSnowMist by MoonVooDoo TheMistBeyond by MoonVooDoo


I live in an area which is exposed to the elements. Nature can be very gentle in her beauty, she can also be uncompromising.

When it is windy here it feels like the Big Bad Wolf is trying to blow my house down and the front door is a flimsy barrier keeping very little out, and can’t be opened because once opened it can’t be shut.

When it is hot… hot, what is that? I live under a canopy of old and lush trees, they absorb the warmth of the Sun before it gets to me. You can’t see my house using Google Earth or street view. I am hidden from view.

When it is cold, it is very cold. Travel the short distance between my house and the local village and the temperature rises dramatically. It can be very strange. I wear sweaters and thermals, and the local villagers wear Hawaiian shirts and Bermuda shorts. Yes, I’m exaggerating, but not as much as you may think. I rarely go into the nearest town because the temperature shift is similar to that experienced by those who fly from temperate zones to the tropics and get flattened by the heat when they exit the plane.

I love living here, but sometimes a bit of hate creeps in like the mist. These photos were taken last Winter when a big freeze set in and I was without running water for two weeks because my water supply pipes froze. It was interesting. A trip back in time before the pampering amenities of modern life. Snow became my water supply much to the shock and horror of the Water Company man who gave me more bottled water than I needed because he was concerned for my sanity. He thought being offered snow coffee or tea was… a sign of madness.

I live in a damp dip. When it is rainy season, which is sometimes all year, the slightest bit of Sun creates a sea of mist. It always starts off with a wisp, an eerie feather of white dancing just above the ground, which grows and creeps across the fields. It is beautiful to behold.

There are days and nights when stepping outside is like walking in a world made of fine little drops of moving water.

The silence is deafening.

You can’t see. Not with your eyes.

But you can feel, and your feelings are amplified and travel far with each atom of water.

The mystery of life becomes intangibly tangible or tangibly intangible…

The most beautiful things are sometimes the most chilling because their beauty hurts the beholder.