Fog Fleece



The sun-dipped isle was suddenly a sheep
Lost and stupid, a dense wet tremulous fleece.
~George Mackay Brown “Fog” from The Weather Bestiary




When I was young, fog felt oppressive,
as mournful as the fog horns sounding continually in the nearby bay.
Now in late middle age,
I appreciate fog for slowing me down
when life compels me to rush too fast.
When forced to take time,
I begin to notice what I missed before:
clouds descend to hug and kiss the ground
to bejewel everything they touch.
The dead and dying
become glorious in subtle beauty,
the farm all gossamer garland and transparent pearls…




3 thoughts on “Fog Fleece

  1. I love these photos Emily. Number 3 and 4 look exactly like Scotland, but they were taken in Washington, correct?


  2. I liked this, and I agree with it, for the most part. I love how fog softens everything and makes it seem ethereal. Until we have to drive in it! We often have fog so dense that it wipes out every landmark, making it difficult to find our way home even through familiar territory.


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