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lederhosenEating dinner at the local Chinese tonight, and I chanced to look out the window. One of the glories of living in the mountains... thick, white, blanketing mist. Outside, it wasn't even cold - in fact, quite pleasant - but the mist was all around, close and deep.
Two weeks ago, waiting to catch an early train, I stood on the railway bridge and looked out over the valley. Then, the mists were a hundred metres below us, a furred sea in the valley. As the train slipped under the mist-line, into the depths, I felt I was on a submarine.
Last year, around this time, the mist brought me a strange dream, which I will write up in story form one of these days.
Two weeks ago, waiting to catch an early train, I stood on the railway bridge and looked out over the valley. Then, the mists were a hundred metres below us, a furred sea in the valley. As the train slipped under the mist-line, into the depths, I felt I was on a submarine.
Last year, around this time, the mist brought me a strange dream, which I will write up in story form one of these days.
