A lakeside campsite on the Western Arthur’s saw some evening mist. It rolled in and out. As did the rain.

I wonder if I am in a tiny minority for loving such beautiful weather? Trying to remember if I loved it before I discovered it’s visual potential. Did I run around in it enjoying the silence and the way it hides the unsightly before I understood it’s potential?

Perhaps a question I won’t find an answer too.

So many questions that don’t have answers isn’t there.

Pines in the mist. Photograph and text copyright © Len Metcalf 2020