When I got up and looked out of the bedroom window recently I saw before me a J. M. W. Turner morning. The landscape of pasture, hedgerow, trees, distant wooded hill and sky had been softened and made less distinct, not by brush on canvas, but by fog. The colours too had merged into each other and the glow of the sun, still below the horizon, illuminated and warmed only the clouds. All else was dark and cold. I went out and walked fifty yards or so and took the only photograph from where I now live that has pleased me thus far.
photo © T. Boughen Camera: Lumix FZ1000 2
