Skeletal trees loom through morning fog: sinews of mist entwine their bones, intangible yet impenetrable by the starveling dawn light. Rows of headlights make Death's head grins. And we crawl towards our destinations.
Very apt, I've been there. Once whilst driving on the M4 with my mind in neutral, I saw a castle loom out of the mist and believed for a moment that I had missed the Bristol turn off and somehow had arrived in Wales. As I got closer, it turned out to be a stand of poplars that I passed every day.
2 comments:
Very apt, I've been there. Once whilst driving on the M4 with my mind in neutral, I saw a castle loom out of the mist and believed for a moment that I had missed the Bristol turn off and somehow had arrived in Wales. As I got closer, it turned out to be a stand of poplars that I passed every day.
I like it!
There's a tree near us that looks remarkably like a giant with a large gun. Once you see it you always see it, if you get what I mean.
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