Before dawn, fog moves up
from the river, through the forest, and fills the woods behind my house. It’s a
bit gloomy. Yesterday we had sunshine, and the brightness brought a surge of
energy. Today, not so much. I want to put on a sweater, sit in a chair by the
window, drink hot tea, and read a book about someone else’s adventures.
As the sun rises, the white
particles of mist turn and twirl on the whims of the breeze. It looks like a
cloud of fine snow is dancing.
Then I notice.
