This morning as I pulled out of the drive, I noticed a haziness in the east, covering the road as I headed into the little town of Pulaski.
When I reached the woods on the south side of the road, fog enveloped me, and I found myself praying that the deer would opt to stay in the woods, rather than venture out onto the paved road.
As I continued my journey through Pulaski County and into Cass County, I discovered patches of dense fog, totally obliterating my vision for anything coming toward me. Occasionally a clear spot emerged,and the sun appeared to be forcing its way to earth from the heavens.
Every time I drive through fog, which is too often at this time of year, I think of Sandburg's poem. So simple. So true. Perfect imagery.
The time you see fog, think of the 'little cat feet' as it approaches. So silent, then moving on.
