Morning's Blanket of Down

the beauty of fog

The coolness of night left a dense cover of fog encasing the ridge. The velvety shadow of dawn, showcases the valley, under a plumed wall to cast off the night, like a blanket of down.

Though the temperature gauge of my charger shows no sign of warming, the light of day has the fog slowly expanding. Its dense features are changing with each moment of the day. A Robin’s voice sends dancing vapors across the river that glimmer and shine as the morning sun skips across it. The swaying vapors move with the gentle breath of morning, and the robin’s waltz is an endless dance that travels with time.

The appearance over the ridgeline is no longer distillate, as it slowly begins to travel. The sun sets firmly above the horizon, shining brightly on spring’s tender greeneries. While the sun makes its march ever higher. The fog seems to be falling, falling upward. Nets of lace reach to the heavens. This ghostly apparition fades to naught leaving only the sun to rule. As now the grass glistens with dew, and night is forgotten once again.

Reviews

[Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn..]

This piece would not only make an overwhelming introduction to a novel or a more in depth story of some kind--simply because it captures the reader's imagination in painting a mental image that oozes virtual reality of almost seeing, touching, feeling, even tasting, the fog of early morning, to then witness its beautiful melting away to return yet another day—but it also bespeaks excellently worded poetic prose that speaks to that innermost part of the heart and mind as it finds itself meditating and contemplating upon something so simple as fog, yet so wonderfully and majestically made … Excellent work …!

Marv

[barleygirl]

This is an awesome description of fog. Since I live on the coast, I am very familiar with the way high ocean fog spills over the ridge. There are several exquisite examples of word crafting: “Blanket of Down” . . . “dense features changing with each moment of the day” . . . “fog seems to be falling upward” (this last one is brilliant imagination). Becuz I already love fog, I did not feel your little descriptive piece needed anything else but your creative & dynamic observations. The best writers must first be excellent observers & your powers of observation are strong here (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Cherrie Palmer]

I'm so glad you like this and knowing that you love fog as well makes your appreciation even better :)

[roarke]

"Robin's waltz" I really like that. Just a critique Cherrie, in the first half of this piece, I feel the words fog and day are too repetitive. Nothing bad or wrong, just my take. Fog is a whole different entity in the country/rural, and you've captured it's essence perfectly.

[Norman 223]

You paint an impressive word picture of the changing atmosphere of countryside being changed as the mist disperses. I used to be fascinated when early mornig low mists around our locsl lake could reveal only the upper hslf of a walker, who appeared to be floating without support. Mist has its own magic.

Norman

[Cherrie Palmer]

Early Morning is a wonderful time of day, and thank you Norman, for such a kind review.

[Antoñyo]

I would probably enjoy this more than most, as dawn is my favorite time of any day for various reasons, including mind and spirit. And the last line pretty much captures my attitude; each morning ends a bad yesterday.
Thanks for sharing this nice piece.

[Cherrie Palmer]

Thank you Antonyo, for such a heartfelt review. I am with you each new day brings a fresh start and renewed hope

[Antoñyo]

You are welcome