Early Fen Morning

Waking up early, to find the miasmic mist creeping slowly along the ground just outside my bedroom window. Seeing the frozen ice crystals that chase and seek out the patterns of every intricate leaf vein.

The sentient owl, whose call resounds in the nearby tree. The haunting sound of a  herd of cattle bellowing in the distance, eerily reverberating across the dark waters of the flowing river.

This is what a Winter Fen morning means to me…

 

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