Fine day for being dead

The cemetery next to my studio was fittingly colourless today, swept in chilly mist and absolutely silent. With thoughts bent towards the eternal issues, I tiptoed around the graves and tried to capture the extreme grayscale while keeping my batteries warm. As so often, I was mumbling to myself doing this, and as I said, safely under my breath,
-OK, little stiffies, hold still
a little fine dust of snow was mysteriously shaken loose from a branch straight over my head. Today´s battle with the spirits, indeed.