Stories in Mist




Dawn creeps through the mist, stealing night’s solitude.

Mist settling in between notes of soft music drifts through the room and out into the valley.

Between now and then is the shadow of self… wavering slightly in our imagination.

Sprout question: What stories are your soft edges telling?

© 2010 Terrill Welch, All rights reserved.

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Purchase photography at http://www.redbubble.com/people/terrillwelch

Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

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14 thoughts on “Stories in Mist

  1. Terrill,

    Beautifully created! The steel grey of the wet sky has caste a misty darkness here as well, taking those bright vivid colors and turning them to rich deep texture like velvet, of crimson and burgandy, brown and yellow are the carpet that I walk.

    I often say I don’t have stories, or I don’t know how to tell stories, so I allow them to happen with others poems, words, and language, expressed through my photography and blog…

    I am Love, Jeff

  2. Terrill – The photographs are wonderful – my favorite is the first one. Veiled in mystery.

    Sprout question: What stories are your soft edges telling?

    Change is in the air, and it can be positive, uplifting, constructive and healing — if I let it. Or it can be otherwise — if I let it. The choice is mine.

    • Laurie these photographs are a combination of my camera and editing to pull and strengthen their under belly of expression. Fog images seem to be particularly good for this kind of deepening of colour and texture manipulation. And change is in the air is it? Now I am curious. Hum, I wounder what it might be? Good luck with your choosing… you are fine athlete when it comes to choosing so I am not worried at all. I am sure you will choose and re-choose and choose again without even quickening your breath – and it will all be just right.

  3. Terrill, it was great to stop by here as always before I go into the cave of writing.

    dearest readers are associating my usage of the word “cave” as dark, scary, and sad (in re: my still sundays post from yesterday) but really, although I am scared of caves, quite literally, and unlike the sea/ocean am not ‘drawn’ to them simultaneously despite a certain fear, I didn’t mean my analogy as anything but literal. It is dark where I write. Well, okay, not literally dark, but working on a ‘novel’ manuscript is very different than a short story or any of my Tuesday’s stories. And it is just a shutting out of everything and flowing, very slowly, given I do write very slow, so it can seem like an hour and I am in the same spot of exploring a cave.

    Anyway, sorry to go on, I use this creative potager as a warm up before I go away to write some days, if I had the photos and sprout questions as a book, I would probably open up a page before writing. : ) *hint* hehe!

    So today’s sprout question: What stories are your soft edges telling?

    Well, to tell the story softly. To take the edge off where I am in the story. Because you can still see through the mist.

    So thank you.

    Off to writing.

    ~a.

    p.s.
    i like the 1st photograph a lot. it ‘feels’ misty. : )

    • The best of today writing Annie and I hear your hint. Maybe it is the book that needs to be written rather than the one I was thinking of doing. I wonder if I have enough yet to do 108 questions? I may.

      Annie I am looking forward to when you get chance to share the rest of your story as well. I thought maybe this morning… but no not yet… hum…

  4. No, not yet, for I still have to find the ‘soft edges’ to complete that, Terrill. When writing is deeply personal and you want others to relate to it it has to be find the perfect balance between ‘just about me’ and ‘everything about everyone.’ And right now, it is, although not an open, raw, wound, but I am making a pretty outfit for what felt like a scar but is now a cool tattoo, an imprint of growth, an owning “the ocean that is me,” and in that sense, an “ocean that is us all.”

    Thank you always for your patience and understanding.

    Gratitude,

    ~annie

  5. I love the poetry in your post today. Fog, mist–I love it. What does it want to teach me? What would it tell me, if I could listen?
    Treasure what’s near–examine it with fresh eyes.
    What is hidden from our view–all the tomorrows–will come.
    Trust, but focus on the now.

  6. Oh, what beautiful soft-mist. My edges are telling mist stories, too. Sideways stories. Stories of fog and sand. Stories of a sea of stars. Stars of pink wings flapping to the sky.

    • Kathy I am still seeing “stars of pink wings flapping to the sky’!!! And I am living vicariously through your post of the pink spoonbill.

      Dear readers, I encourage you to go to Kathy’s blog and just scroll and read until you get to her outstanding photos of the pink spoonbill. She has had a wonderful visit with her family in Florida and there are some incredible photographs and stories to take in.

  7. I love the mystery of the mist in your photos. (I love your blog.) We can’t know everything, but we can imagine many things.

    Our softness comes in the form of fog, usually in winter. But even now, when it is still warm, if we climb up high enough on certain trails, we can see this (I hope the link works):
    http://twitpic.com/2uhofd

    • It did work Louise and the view is gorgeous! Wow! Like being on top of the world. I like what you say about how “we can’t know everything, but we can imagine many things.” That sits real well with me. Creative Potager is what it is because of readers and community participation from people like you Louise. So glad you are here.

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