There's something about a foggy morning. It puts me in a different sort of mood. I wouldn't say it's a magical mood--more like mysterious. It's the kind of mood that makes me wonder what's around the corner waiting to jump out at me and say, "Hey, I'm here." It's the kind of mood that makes me want to curl up with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book. Peaceful, yet mysterious.
There's something hanging in the air. I feel it right around the corner, yet I can't reach it. I can't see it, but I can feel it. It's exciting, yet joyful. There's a curiosity or a wonder about the day ahead. Do I walk outside and feel the mist on my face? Do I watch from the window and enjoy the warmth of my afghan? Fog is quiet like snow--yet different. Fog stirs my soul.
The occasional foggy day is just wondrous! Too many days of fog will depress me. Apparently, my soul also needs sunshine. How can something so glorious lead me into depression after many days? I don't know, but I'll figure that out some other time because this is the occasional wondrous foggy day!