Sue Vincent’s #writephoto image this week is a gorgeous shot of mist and trees, and as soon as I saw it these words came to me:
We are mist, smoke, hidden things. We dance along branches and through the hedgerows, down chimneys and across the floorboards before slipping out into dusk once more.
You may see us, sometimes. A glimpse on a frosty morning, a flicker of light in shimmering twilight, a cool whisper in an ancient place. We are always here, though we are forgotten now.
Yet if you seek us you will find us, and we will welcome you. For we are part of you, despite the things people say. Despite the years of turning away, of relegating us to fairy mounds and haunted tales, we are still here.
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