As I was having my coffee this morning I noticed that a thick fog had rolled in during the night. After finishing my morning routine, I grabbed my camera & made my way around the house. I realized that I had never captured fog images here on the property, so it was about time I did. There's something eerie & mysterious rolled with a bit of the serene whenever I think of fog. Nothing beats fog in San Francisco for me or on the beaches of Santa Barbara where my family used to take walks whenever we'd visit aunt Sylvia. I haven't had the privilege of experiencing a foggy day in London or on the moors of Scotland, but perhaps one day I will. Take a morning stroll with me and enjoy the view.
Here I am making my way up the driveway. You can see that so many leaves have fallen in the last week or so. These majestic maple trees look so bare. Up the hill on the right hand side is the barn.
Another shot of the maples as I was approaching the barn. You should have heard the cawing of the crows in the distance this morning. Unbelievable.
I don't know why I love the stump of this long-since gone old oak. Perhaps it's because it calls to mind a Hollywood movie background for me or perhaps it's the thought of knowing it provided shade & protection to the barn over a hundred years ago.
The fog was beginning to dissipate somewhat along the driveway by this time. This photo was taken around 8:45 a.m.. No leaves whatsoever on these trees.
Standing on the terrace in front of the barn, you can see that beyond the dogwoods the fog is still quite thick.
Now I'm making my way up the hill towards the meadow. In a previous post I photographed & explained a Bank Barn to you. This photograph clearly shows (on the right) how the barn cuts into the hill.
Here's one edge of the meadow with its majestic trees around the perimeter.
One of the paths that leads westward along the edges of the field has begun to turn brown. I think this vista is simply breathtaking.
A well-used birdhouse. Several are scattered throughout the grounds.
Here I am making my way back home along the terrace. Pretty soon, there won't be a leaf left.
Home is a 1790 primitive colonial.