image from www.flickr.com
image from www.flickr.com

When I was a little girl, I was enchanted with a foggy morning.  Mist, with it's silvery, lavenderish cast, was more beautiful than the sunniest of June days. I would run to school imagining I was an angel running amongst the clouds, filled with energy as if the close air enveloped me with some new and everlasting oxygen. 

The fog still calls to me and I still go half expecting to find another world.


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