FLOATERS AND FOG
A dewy mist settles on the glass-stained water. The mystical canvas creates a peculiar sense of serenity. Wildlife appears invisible, perhaps waiting for the mid-morning sun to dissipate the vapour.
It feels like the calm before a phantom storm, as a pair of ducks pop up.
The conjoined black outline glides aimlessly, before dropping off the face of the Earth. The mist is clearing, visibly confirmed by a flock of terns racing by.
Little fissures continue to splinter the low-level cloud assisted by a leaping roach.
The sun has got stronger, framing the scene as a translucent image.
A brisk walk along the towpath conjures up drumlins of clouds, scattered with hints of hopeful blueness.
Near the end of the pleasant part of the towpath, a car crosses an old, stone bridge. Timeless and secure, the bridge only revealed by the harsh, radiating lights that streak skywards.
Finally, the mist lifts, exposing a grey-turquoise body, the outline all but vanished. Near the edge of the riverbank, a clan of tadpoles swivel around in a circular motion. Joyous as the warm rays graze their gills.
The sunlight has spawned patches of light brown cloudy water barely viewable to the naked eye. You would really have to look for it or be hyper-aware of these things.
Sometimes ignorance is bliss, just don’t stare directly at the sun!