Wreaths of Mist
Tuesday, 10th August 2004
Mist rises in wreaths amongst the dark trees of the wood.
with rain the buddleia has keeled over, burying the dogwood
alongside it. The bush, growing in a confined space at the back of the
shrub bed has become top heavy despite regular prunings. The purple blossoms
must have become waterlogged and the weak shrub's stem wasn't up to the
job of supporting the extra weight. The goosegrass, scrambling
up amongst its branches probably added to the load when its velcro like
stems and leaves also became sodden.
The river is up, covering the bridge piers and rushing under the arches. A man takes a photograph, dog walkers stop and gaze.
It's good having the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary loaded on my hard disk. I was thinking 'do I really mean “wreaths”?' But, yes, 'wreaths' is the right description for the wisps of mist I saw this morning:
Richard Bell, email@example.com