fog-blur

Updated: June 19, 2025

Steep stone steps, of the colour that nature ripens through long winters, lead up to this garden by way of clumps of bamboo grass. You see the Smell was right when it talked of meeting old friends. Half-a-dozen blue-black pines are standing akimbo against a real sky not a fog-blur nor a cloud-bank, nor a gray dish-clout wrapped round the sun but a blue sky.

Rudyard Kipling - Letters of Travel (1892-1913)