A Visible Contrast

The Needles foghorn beckoned us all the way to the coast at Barton on Sea this morning. All other sounds were muffled by clouds of tiny water droplets known as mist.

We took the route through Angel Lane where Jackie parked the Modus and I photographed

misty scenes

and more visible views of the banks of the ditch.

The silhouettes of the few dog walkers on the clifftop at Barton could not have contrasted more with the many enjoying yesterday afternoon’s sunset.

After visiting the pharmacy at Milford on Sea we progressed to Keyhaven harbour where there was not much to be seen:

Bob Barnes reflected in the first picture, a fisherman, gulls, swans, and a few boats.

Later, I was able to photograph Bob and his reflection once more as we engaged in a socially distanced conversation beside

a memorial bench to Peter and Dorothy Thomas. Our discussion was recorded by Jackie, who also photographed

walkers on the spit, the yacht club, a bird on a wire, and a pair of preening mallards.

Another dog walker approached Pennington Lane as we passed on our way to

Boldre’s Saint John the Baptist Churchyard on Church Lane.

Field horses grazed beneath the graveyard, where, above the soil, a mossy, decomposing stump gradually merged with the soil beneath which humans from days gone by engaged in the same process.

This evening we dined on toothsome roast gammon; golden creamy mashed potatoes; pure white cauliflower; and most moist ratatouille, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Recital 2018.

80 comments

  1. I love this post of misty scenes! Especially interesting are the shots with masts barely showing, reflections (in particular, the two shots of Bob Barnes and his reflection), and the dog walkers on the cliff. I occasionally hear fog horns in the distance, and find that an eerily reminiscent sound!

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  2. I love the mysterious, ethereal look of the English countryside, Derrick. Beautiful. The mashed potatoes sound really delicious. ❤️🇬🇧

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      1. Sometimes? The only reason I have never visited the UK is that the only week of pleasant weather you have during the entire year never coincides with my vacation.
        You are very welcome, Derrick.

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  10. A bounty of beautiful shots, Derrick. I love the foggy header photo–mysterious and touch eerie. The gull and swans photos are wonderful, too, and the misty church graveyard . . .
    “most moist ratatouille” 😀

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  11. Since I was a child, I’ve never liked fog. Now, it still evokes feelings of loneliness and despair, as does the whistle of a passing train. Of course your photos are still lovely!

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  14. A quiet foggy day there, and I enjoyed all the photos, Derrick and Jackie. I used to enjoy walking on such days when I was young. The roads were quiet back then, not much traffic, and the woods were damp and still.

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  16. I’ll be remiss if I say fog alone has made those photos mesmeric. There is a connoisseur of the art behind those captures. The graveyard itself is a ghost of itself, the foggy veil has done the rest to the atmosphere of eeriness.

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  18. Your ‘season of mists’ series is very evocative: the misty scenes are magic to me, who enjoys being ‘hidden’ now and then. Our younger son was about seven when he saw mist for the first time. Something we take for granted was a new phenomenon for him as he rushed about trying to catch it!

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  19. What a great set of photos Derrick. Misty and atmospheric capturing the mood perfectly. Love the churchyard set 😁

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  22. I agree about the fog horns, they do sound Erie
    Once on a visit to Northumberland we took a walk along the longest pier where there was a lighthouse at the end. As we walked along, the fog set in and the lighthouse began its warning, oh so loud, but out at sea the sound of foghorns grew nearer and nearer to where we were, it became so scary we felt sure the ships were going to hit the pier.
    I do like your foggy photographs, there’s something erie about those too.

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      1. Thank you so much for the link. I remember those days of thick smog very well.
        On one occasion my uncle came to collect us for a family event, it was thick fog and you could hardly see a hand in front of you. So much so that my dad had to get out and walk in front of the car to lead the way.
        Being high up we get a lot of fog, and then we drive down into the valley and find there is none.
        You’ll get the sea fog coming in so I imagine Jackie is just as bad as me when trying to negotiate an unlit, narrow, winding country lane on a foggy winter evening – er.. where’s the kerb!

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  24. Oh! The mist is beautifully mysterious! Good to see so many creatures (including Human-Beans) out and about!
    When we lived in San Francisco, CA fog and mist were a big part of our winters…and we loved the lighthouses we got to visit. 🙂
    Love the photos of the sky with the lone bird and the tree with the lone horse…so hauntingly beautiful!
    Your meal sounds delicious…and most moist ratatouille is better than desperately dry ratatouille. 😉 😛 (we fixed spicy veggie sauce to put over some pasta and had salad, too.)
    (((HUGS)))

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  27. I am not a fog fan but I am a fan of these evocative images. Fog is an apt image for the time we’re living through, don’t you think?

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  31. Derrick, so sorry that I’ve neglected your posts, and others, as well. Very happy to see this one. I loved the foggy pictures, especially the fisherman. What was he fishing for, besides the great pleasure of just fishing? I hope all is well with you and the family. All my best, Steve

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