Mists of Avalon

The morning was frigid.  Easily in the teens.  The waters were cold, but not that cold, and covered with a thick fog.  The sun rose, the winds began and the mists began swirling and rising into the air.  I shot and shot until my fingers were the color of bright red lobsters.  These mists are one of my favorite memories.  Black and white makes this look kinda surreal.

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