Fog helps us enter a dreamworld where we can simultaneously see some elements of nature, while others are hidden. Therein lies the mystery - and the beauty.
I made this moody image on an early fall morning in Maine from a cottage right on a lake where tree reflections whispered softly, subtly. The shapes are shrouded in grays with touches of green and red - and the world feels muted.
There are also competing sensations. The muted color feels like a moment stopped in time, so you want to be still within the stillness. But there is also a sense of urgency to drink in the moment because, as Robert Frost said in his famous poem, fog comes in "on little cat feet," "sitting on silent haunches" and then moves on. So you know that this dreamscape is transitory, fleeting. At any moment it will, sadly, disappear.