As
I ascend the mist grows thick,
Against
the screen its tendrils lick.
I flick on headlights, but still can't see.
It feels
like freezing cloud to me,
Which of deep murk seems guarantee.
Which of deep murk seems guarantee.
The
frost clings white to all the trees,
An
eerie landscape of unease.
As I maintain my fogbound climb,
All things grow more encased in rime.
As I maintain my fogbound climb,
All things grow more encased in rime.
Ice binds to holly, hedge and lime.
Change
comes when gloom was at its worst:
I'm in a sea of light immersed!
I'm in a sea of light immersed!
Then
through to brilliant sun I burst,
So
swift it feels quite strange at first.
Before startled eyes the view expands;
The icy scene glows palely grand,
A glistening winter wonderland!
Leicester was cold and gray, and very tiny snow particles were falling as I set out. As I climbed up toward Copt Oak, one of the highest points in the county, the fog grew steadily thicker, and nearly the whole landscape was white with heavy frost.
Suddenly I burst through the top of the clouds into brilliant sunshine, a hilltop vista of brilliant white trees, fields and hedges. Awesome!
Same journey in Autumn:
http://stephen-wylie.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/unearthly-glow.html
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