On my way for a sunrise surf at widmouth this morning (although running a little late!) I had to stop by a farmers gate and try my best to capture this quintessentially British mist born sunrise!
A reading of the piece (AI-generated, interpretive): A threshold landscape where the tangible world dissolves into fog, leaving only the crowns of trees and a distant hilltop monument suspended between the unconscious murk below and the fiery archetypal dawn above.
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Commons
Occasional long-form writing. No schedule, no promotion.