There's something thoroughly enchanting about walking in a morning fog. The cool dampness in the air. The way the low-hanging cloud muffle sound. The traffic from the highway, usually so oppressive, just quiet after the morning commute. The secluded feeling despite the suburban neighborhood.
The fog reminds me of Oregon and Washington. And what I think England must be like. It reminds me of nighttime drives home from church in my youth.
It reminds me to be quiet and still.
Soon enough, the sun will make short work of these clouds and burst dazzlingly through. It did this morning.