One misty, moisty morning,

When cloudy was the weather,

There I met an old man,

Clothed all in leather.

Clothed all in leather,

With a cap under his chin.

How do you do?

And how do you do?

And how do you do again?

 

Montucky posted such beautiful photos of the mist in the mountains in this post: https://montucky.wordpress.com/2018/11/28/in-between/

that I felt inspired to run out onto the deck to take some misty photos of my own. They are nowhere as beautiful as Montucky’s, and nowhere near as remote, but it’s what we have here close to town.

Looking at the mist hanging in the trees took me back to a childhood nursery rhyme. Do any of you remember it? I think nursery rhymes are becoming a forgotten treasure of our childhood. I’d hate for them to disappear like these mists will do in an hour or so.