David K. Langford - Fog at Hillingdon

Contents

, by Andrew Sansom

, by Rick Bass

Foreword

ANDREW SANSOM

I have the almost indescribable privilege of working each day in a space that was once the honeymoon suite of the famous old Aquarena Springs hotel in San Marcos, Texas. From the windows on two sides of the room is the stunning view of Spring Lake, the headwaters of the San Marcos River.

For me, that view is most sensational on cold winter days when a ribbon of fog rises out of the crystal-clear spring waters of the lake and winds its way downstream from the source of the river lying just below my office. Mimicking the meanders of the river itself, the snaking line of fog forms because the water temperature, a constant spring-fed seventy degrees, is warmer than the air. The resulting mystical imagery outside my window is a striking testament to why few phenomena in nature have inspired as much poetry and prose as fog.

Most of it has been moody. Through the ages, in most literary references to fog, whether verse or narrative, fog becomes a metaphor for confusion or murk, clouding the mind and the vision from understanding and direction.

Although many have tried over the years, few photographers have captured the mysterious beauty of this remarkable hydrologic occurrence as eloquently as David Langford has in the mists of his familys beloved Hillingdon Ranch.