The winding road south of the little ski town of Revelstoke, BC, wends through the woods along the shores of the Columbia River like a sidewinder snake. It is a floodplain about a dozen miles south of a massive hydroelectric dam, and in the spring and autumn months, a thick pea-soup of fog brews there most mornings. But, take the logging road to the left, and you will soon find yourself above it, peering down on what looks like a vast lake of mist trapped beneath blue skies and blazing sun in the valley between 8,000ft peaks that stretch on as far as the eye can see.

But down below, it is dark and moody - the stuff of disturbed dreams - which may as well hold the road to Brigadoon for its quiet, windless wet air, like something out of a John Carpenter movie. It takes hours to cook it off.

This shot, this road less travelled, was taken at 10 am, and the soup hung there in its cold hush until about noon and was the perfect subject for a day out with the vastly underrated Nikon D780, which, of all the bodies in my collection, seems to render monochrome in a unique brand of silver and graphite, which I thought perfectly suited the scene ᨒ