Fog

I have ambivalent feelings about fog. It's cold and wet and repressive and very, very depressing sometimes, as those of you who live around here certainly know. But other times it's alive, mysterious and lovely. I especially like it when it's blowing in shreds around the trees or when I'm in the mountains and the fog is sitting in the valleys. This morning, though, I had one of the really good fog moments. I was driving in to work and the fog was burning off in one area and the sunrise was apparently coming over the mountain, because the fog I was driving through was rose-colored. Instead of being cold and oppressive, it was (from the interior of my car) warm and inviting. I think that even if I'd been outside, walking through the pear orchards, it would have seemed warmer. And it was lovely.