In the sharp, cleansing, upper air
I soak up this Winter sun.
And the town below, bathed in fog,
Looks unfathomable — beyond recognition.
I am above it all.
Looking down as if at a different realm.
This is a perfect reversal of the usual:
The lower down I get, the foggier it becomes.
I’m entering the fog from the hills…
Not as I slowly climb.
I’ve done this walk a dozen times.
But today, that simply doesn’t matter.
It is if I’ve discovered a new part of the country.
Completely ethereal and corbettised.
The town below is bathed in a milky fog.
Not a single building shows itself.
The entire valley is a milky-white lake
The size of Windermere:
A landscape transformed.
If only this were real -
A new place in an old place.
A gigantic lake never seen before.
Never swam in, nor walked along.
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