As soft as a whisper, as silent as a shadow, fog sifts through starkly bare trees and shutters the town in a damp grayness. Perspective changes; familiar things become alien.
Across the street, something moves. A cat shadow creeps from behind a tree and moves with focused intensity across the lawn. What mission is she on? What destination does she have in mind? What does she know and what does she see that I cannot?
Grateful for the shelter of walls and fireside, I watch the cat. It is a morning of mystery. A waiting, water color morning, a shrouded, indistinct morning, blurred by the onset of the fog.
Photo by Missy Day Albrecht
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