We woke to find it misty outside. The radio was waxing lyrical about how it was a "pea souper" and all that but it didn't look that exceptional. Nevertheless I thought we might pop up to Mount Coot-tha after dropped Eloise off at school and Nicole off at work.
As we headed down Lutwyche Road, the city ahead was shrouded in mist, but in a matter of a few seconds it cleared completely away, leaving me with the suitably indistinct impression that we might be wasting our time but as we drove through Bardon the mists began to appear again in the dips between the hills and as we climbed up the mountain to look out over the valley there was a blanket of mist shrouding all as far as the eye could see, with just a few of the towers of the city poking out of the cloud, hard and dark against the soft white ripples. The silence was not absolute but the atmosphere was definitely muted.
I set up the camera on a tripod and my phone on stopwatch and spent half and hour or so taking a photo every thirty seconds, or as nearly as I could as I was spending the time in between chasing Lyra and bringing her back over my shoulder.
As the time marched on the mist rolled away out to sea, evaporating as it went, and the sounds of the metropolis began to make their way up to us again.
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