Along the River Tamar at Saltash Passage
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Diary entry : Autumn 99 |
| One of those rare mornings in autumn,
when fat spiders shimmer on glassy webs. When breath grays the air and the
leaves crisp underfoot, along my concrete path. I looked over the trees
toward the river. Something different today: a river mist. A thick film
of whiteness cutting the distant landscape in half.
Why so compelling, so attractive? Goodness knows I have a thousand other thoughts on my mind, to crowd all this out and away. But I have to go down there, to see for myself. It could be gone in an hour or so.
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