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MISTICAL

Late this afternoon I glanced out the window while going downstairs to make some tea and saw that a really splendid mist was forming after the day's steady rainfall through the cool air onto the mountainside (thoroughly warmed by yesterday's beautiful sunny day while I was in the office), and I decided that as soon as I'd set the tea to brewing I'd go out and try to capture with my camera that magical mood of ghostly trees and fading distances re-emerging and then disappearing to merely arm's length, then shifting again to mystical transformations in that wondrous dance mists never do twice the same, but when I set my tea to brewing, grabbed my camera and ran outside I found that during that moment the mist had reached the turning point of evening, passed its utmost peak of saturation and broken into all the pieces of a mountain rain, that turned the paddies into flat white light between here and the now only rain-misted trees, so I just went in and had my tea and watched.