My Foggy View (Day 62/365
This was the scene from our front deck this morning. I love the way fog looks, the way it floats in wispy, ethereal froth, its winding passage up the way, and down, then ghosting sideways, as though direction is not known–as though the filmy fog is searching for its path, its own way. Sometimes the vapor is thin and translucent so that just behind the film are seen the stately conifers that stand across the lake. Then, as a thick blanket is thrown over one’s head, and blindness is instant, so comes the heavy gray fog, hiding the day .
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