An Exaltation

A Flock on the Foothills, 18 October 2019. Copyright 2018 Forgotten Fields. All rights reserved.
To my left, a flock on the foothills.
When I survey pastoral scenes such as these, I wish that I could outstretch my arms and embrace them! In my desperation, I do so with words—fumbling lines that do none of it justice. If I could write poetry so sweet, verses so simple—silences so sustaining!
Sheep on a Hill, 18 October 2019. Copyright 2018 Forgotten Fields. All rights reserved.
To my right, a flock on an eminence.

Photographs taken 18 October 2019.

Early Bard Catches the Word

It was overcast yesterday with heavy fog on the mountains and so the aptest weather for working on “Mist from the Mountains”. Today, the fog persists, accompanied by heavy rain early this morning. Venturing out regardless, just before first light, I surveyed the fog-laden mountains and was rewarded with the perfect word for a line in the poem that has troubled me over the past few days (not the “Solemn, sombre and slow” line I singled out yesterday but the one that follows it). It seems the early bard catches the word.