monday's mulling: morning fog

Yesterday the weather apps and the television weather people alerted the people of the Miami Valley that we would wake up to a dense fog. All the appropriate warnings that the pea soup visibility might slow down morning commutes to work were given. Today is also Presidents' Day, a federal holiday, and some businesses and schools will be closed in observance of the fete. The 7:15 school bus will return for its student pick up at the corner tomorrow morning.

I peeked out my window to look at the fog and then went outside to just stand in the mist. So peaceful, so quiet.

It’s like the world hit pause overnight.

Waking up and going outside to stand in a chilly, densely foggy morning makes everything feels softer. The light is diffused, the edges of buildings and trees blur into the mist, and sound seems wrapped in cotton. The familiar streets look mysterious.

Going outside in that moment woke me out of my Monday morning fog. The cool air woke me up better than that first cup of coffee. The usual noise from passing cars was muted. Peaceful, but not empty — more like the world quietly breathing.

My mind in the morning's peace and quiet took in the moment and went to Carl Sandburg's poem, "Fog," that captured a quiet and mysterious moment over a city and harbor. My quiet and mysterious moment was from my driveway.

Fog

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

~ Carl Sandburg