A foggy start to the day; with hopeful intent at dawn, off on a short walk along the Thames looking for a few photo opportunities. Cold but no frost sadly to enliven the gag of reeds and moss covered trees. I clump over the wooden decking at the Boat House and startle a heron who, with a lonesome squawk, flaps over the river each wing dipping in the water before fading from view into the fog on the far bank.

Walking on there is little noise apart from startled river bank birds chattering a warning and the drip of moisture from high, dew sodden branches. As the light increases the fog seems to intensify. A tripod moment here is disappointing; walking inland the metal frame of an old hay shed reveals itself. A dog walker shouts a “Good Morning”, a lone rower, rear red light flashing, gracefully scoots by dipping oars leaving complex ripples in the water. In search of a spot of colour amongst the mono-chromatic landscape a solitary leaf is snapped, resting on a little concrete arch of a bridge. The shots of yellow and white mould spreading over a dead tree trunk are less successful, the cold-numbed fingers unable to locate just the right focus point even with a spread of f-stops. The results are rejected for this little photo-essay. Other photos though are more pleasingm as was the steaming cup of coffee on my return home a good two hours later. The fog remains.