Just Thinking: Short Journey Snapshot.

Driving from the rural into the town, before you reach the golf club there are pasturelands. They roll and dip in the way that pasture land habitually does and I am reminded of something a committed organic farmer once said to me:
“When you buy land, you also buy the water it brings, or the debt to supply the water it will need.”

I am not sure where the thought came from: it’s funny, but very human, the way that thoughts will fizz, like unexpected fireworks – that either startle or entertain – while we think we’re thinking about something else.

The something else, actually, was the way the early morning fog/mist lies n the dips of the land. My inner-poet is thinking it maybe last year’s dying breath and hoping to create something around that thought.
The cattle, placid Friesians, in the field, rendered legless by the phenomenon, chew contentedly enough on the cud – how very bovine!
But, driving home this evening, same journey, just in reverse, I am intrigued by the way the fog has risen. This morning it nestled in hollows as close to the ground as game-bird possible. This evening it seems to be doing it’s higher-than level best to creep up the lamp posts to cling to the sodium lights (newly installed energy efficient bulbs, I believe to cut costs and light pollution, as if scared of being stranded in the darkness. It hovers above the roofs of cars, smearing the pumpkin yellow of the bulbs in an attractive fashion, perhaps attempting to conceal the truth – or at least make it palatable – that temperatures will drop below freezing point tonight.

Keep warm spiderlings.


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