Fog

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One of the books I remember reading as a kid was called Fog Magic. As you would expect from such a title, it told the story of some pretty strange adventures that a girl experienced on foggy days.

The other day was a foggy day. It wrapped the landscape in its cottony blanket that narrowed the world to a small bubble of space around me. I like the fog because it seems to slow the pace of life. I just have to deal with what's in front of me, not with what is way off in the distance.

Quiet came with the fog, too. That's another thing I like about it. It's a sense of imposed peace, conveying a quality that lets me think my own thoughts rather than the marketing messages of others.

How odd to think that the more foggy it is, the more clearly I see.

Plus I like that Evian mist-in-the-face refreshing spritz that fog gives. And it's all free.