Fog
THE FOG comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
We don't get a lot of fog here - the air is usually pretty dry - but we had a chilly-rainy day and this fog rolled in at dusk. This picture is taken directly North of the parsonage - the field where 'our' hay bales were was directly East.
The Man-Cub and I took Jack out in the fog - it was eery and fun...
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