Carl Sandburg wrote that fog came in on little cat's feet. He must have written that before retiring to the North Carolina mountains at Flat Rock near Hendersonville.
I am working on a music project this week in the mountains near Roaring Gap and the fog here came in on big bear claws. It is hugging the hills and hollows and transforming the landscape. I had hoped to get some nice photographs this week but the fog is obscuring the view. So instead of fighting the weather I've decided to work with it.
What are your favorite fog stories? Please share.