The Dreaminess of Fog

Oh, how I love a foggy morning! Fog has such a spell-like effect on me. I just love the way it diffuses the light of street lamps to make them look as if they were taken right out of some oldy mystery show where the narrator is the detective and he has this masculine and respectable sound that makes you feel like he would protect you from anything. When the fog lays thickly on the ground, like a soft snuggly blanket that you could laze around all day in, I have a hard time convincing myself that this is actually not such a great idea. Fogginess makes me feel like I am living in a dream-world where everything moves slowly and there is never anything important enough to warrant quick movement. I love how it makes landscapes look like paintings by Monet. When I go downtown on a foggy morning and the tops of tall buildings are lost in the fog, I get this feeling that I could probably just climb out one of those windows way up toward the top and just sit atop of the fog and watch cars and people down below. The moist-mistiness of a good dense fog feels as if it is cleansing me when I walk through it. All sounds seem distant when you are moving through this dream world. After one of those foggy-lazy days, I wonder what my life would be like if every day were like that.