Fog and mist

My friend had sent me a photo of a spot I recognised. It was where they hold static hot-air-balloon vertical "trips" in what used to be my local park. The photograph had been taken in the evening, thus the light was elegant; not completely dependent on the street lamps, yet mostly made up of their output.

The grass and plants looked blue, rather than blatant green, due to the lighting. The path was orange, as though burnished gold pebbles had been scattered around.And there, in the slight depression in the middle, a definite cushion of cloud hung. Ghostly, haunting, and eerily calm. Even though it was a picture, you could look at it and believe you were hearing the dampened silence of nothingness. It was a scene of peace. 

Elian (my friend) and I were sending voice messages back and forth, as we usually do. Talking about the image, the difference between "niebla" (fog) and "bruma" (mist) came up. Language wealth is a magnificent exeperience. The fact two single words can illustrate the difference between clouds lying low and clouds which have never been allowed to rise is, to me and fellow language nuts, a thing of joy. Changing a word will change your whole experience.

It is not the same to be upset than angry; not the same to be good and well; not the same to be here and present.

Choose your word carefully, both when you talk to others and when you talk about yourself.

Choose whether it is fog, or mist.