Smoking Rivers and Winter Mornings

Just past the hills, in the thicket of the trees,the choked branches fight against the cold grip;barely touching the smoking river beneath them.With only the fog in the distant,the river seems to travel to nowhere in particularbringing life to all its half-awaken creatures.

Check out the full poem here - "Winter Morning I took this photo in December one chilly, cold (did I say chilly :-)) morning -- right before sunrise.  It was a grey, gloomy day overall even after the sun rose.  I love gloomy and esp rainy days (side note: probably one of my favorite things in the world.  Guess you won't find this on one of Oprah's Favorite Things list: -)).  I also love the way fog sits on top of waterways in general -- what I've called 'smoking rivers.'So ... I got up early this morning to practice shooting in fog. Can't say I captured it but, it did inspire me to write a poem about my love and wonder of Winter Mornings -- hopefully convincing more people to put this on their 'fav' list as well.Photo Courtesy - "of me"