We've been fogged in for a few days now, socked in, hemmed in, pressed against this cloudy coast. Usually, like a parlor trick, you can drive into the hills and emerge in sunlight. Yesterday, though, when I gave it a go, the fog was faster. Here's the little glimpse I got before the fog rolled right over me, rolled past me and obscured everything. No little cat feet, I'm afraid, just a heavy, hefty layer of wet and drippy gray.
Next entry: Detour
More by Veronique de Turenne:
Layers of green and wetSigns of Saturday: Falling rocks
Flights of pelicans
Hey, sweet pea
The writing on the wall
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