Sepia Scenes: A Foggy Tuesday Afternoon

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

~Carl Sandberg

For more Sepia Scenes participants please click on the badge at the top of my post.

Through My Window Thursday

I mentioned last week that on Thursdays I would be posting different views that I happen to see through my window. This was a view early one morning last week. The fog had drifted up off the river. I love it. It reminds me of fall which is my favorite season. Then too, the words of Carl Sandburg always come to mind. His poem is one of my favorites.

The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

________________________________________

As I was leaving to visit my daughter last week Jientje left me a comment that she had something for me. It was this cute little You Rock award. I have to thank her for this wonderful gesture. She handed it out to me for being a faithful visitor of her blog and said she was a huge fan of my work. She's a huge fan of my work. Oh my gosh - her work is so exceptional and that is why I visit her so much. If you don't know her blog please stop by Heaven In Belgium and visit her. You really will not be dissappointed!

Thank you Jientje!

The fog came in....

“The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.”
------ Carl Sandburg

The rain that had lulled me to sleep Thursday night was still falling when I awoke yesterday morning. I could tell even from behind the drawn curtains that it was again a dreary day. Later in the morning as is my usual daily custom I went to my sunroom to check on my email and blogging friends. I sat at my craft table and occasionally glanced out at the overcast day and the droplets of rain hanging on the branches. And then it came – the fog. I live on five acres of land and the river is just past that behind me. Usually I see the fog come up behind my neighbor’s house and recede. Today it came through the woods and into the yard. Just as in Sandburg’s poem it was silent and it came in fast. I’ve been trying to train my eye to see the “pictures” I should try to capture with my camera. Even though it was still early for me I guess my brain was fully engaged. I grabbed my camera and stepped out on the deck to click a couple of photos in the hopes that at least one would be good. In only moments the elusive fog that had hovered silently was gone – just as silently as it had come in.