THE fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Carl Sandburg. 1878–
For those of you who like geography…this is near the wettest place on earth. The fog rolled in at the end of our hike, and I enjoyed watching my dear husband hover in and out of existence as he hiked in front of me. We ended the hike barefoot, enjoying the cool dirt beneath our feet.
The fog added a splendid magic to the day.