Living in a fog?
Come to Pennsylvania.
Leave for work at 7am: dark, rainy and foggy.
Leave work at 5pm: Dark, spritzing and foggy.
It really is quite amazing how the fog changes one’s perception.
I drove past the trees in the front of my house, and thought I saw a tree down.
No, can’t be.
It’s the fog, playing tricks on me.
Hmmm. Sure looks like a giant tree in the middle of the road.
Oh well, at least it isn’t a deer.
Turn on the bright lights.
That made it worse.
Can’t see a thing with the brights, in a fog.
Something just doesn’t seem right.
Maybe I ought to stop…. right now.
I got out of the car.
What is this in the middle of the road?
Am I still on the road?
This #%##@$@$$$ fog.
How do the Brits put up with the shadowy haze that turns familiar objects into ghostly tree trunks?
It was a tree.
Ok. Put the buggy into 4 wheel drive and hop over it.
And call the tree patrol.
Is there such a thing?
No, but the township showed up and cleared the road.
I think it was the township.
But the fog made it impossible to tell for sure.
I think the tree is gone.
I guess I will know for sure when the weather turns colder and the fog slinks away.
If the tree is still standing tomorrow, and this is all a figment of the fog, I may quit drinking.
No, on second thought, I am getting quite fond of the fog.
It is a gentle reminder that our lives are but an illusion.
That what we perceive is what we believe.
Hey Pink Floyd: How very true:
A tree falls in the road.
Or does it?
And does it make a sound?
Only the fog knows for sure.
May I indulge in one more of my favorite quotes?
THE fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.
Thanks Mr Sandburg.
I’ll drink to that.