Out in the forest this morning it was the mistiest of mornings; the stands of Bratley enclosure were shrouded and near silent. I love the forest when it's like this, the landscape of fairy tales, a landscape in which you might spy mythagos. Magical. Out on the exposed plains the mists were even thicker, with visibility greatly reduced to the point where I found myself off course on a route I've undertaken many many times. The lyrics of Goldfrapp's Utopia came to mind 'It's a strange day, no colours or shapes, no sound in my head, I forget who I am'. Not wishing to overly big myself up, but unintentionally going off course is rare for me; intentionally going off course, well, that's another matter. Today's divergence was a good lesson, a reminder that I'm not infallible.
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