Befogged

[rejectomorph]

Another day of clouds, though they went from being cirrus to being small puffs of cumulous. Perhaps late showers will ensue, but for now, there are banks of fog drifting about, bringing bits of mist. A couple of nights ago, a house at the end of the block sprouted Christmas lights. A small, non-coniferous front yard tree there has been festooned with blinking green, red and yellow lights, and a row of large, translucent plastic candy canes containing red lights lines the adjacent driveway. The patches of fog now wreath this display, causing it to dim and brighten, dim and brighten. The lighted tree looks better in the fog. When thus softened, its lights, because of the form of its branches, looks rather like a giant, bejeweled butterfly. The canes still look like canes, though. I consider them irredeemable, though a fog of sufficient density might reduce my distant view of them to no more than a diffuse, pale red glow. I might enjoy that.

I am, of course, enjoying the fog, and the drops of mist that alight on my face. The air seems less cold now that it has been given substance, and the wooly closeness of it is comforting. Should the fog continue to wrap the forest for a few hours more, the trees will begin to drip dew, and the muffled night be filled with the sound of soft drumming. That will make it even better.

Comments

fogh orns

[worded-snapshot.livejournal.com]

grey vs. gray
temperature inversions
no one is answering at the front desk