This morning was a picturesque one. Gorgeous, gorgeous sunlight, huge and white fluffy clouds, solid white frosty coating in low-lying areas, and a dense foggy mist arising from the river and surrounding land. Add to this picture, acre after acre of golden corn, ripe and ready for harvesting. It was a scene worthy of the greatest painter ever known and I had the good fortune to drive right through it. Even our neighborhood's giant turkey brood was out in full force, walking about with their awkward gait, elongated necks bobbing in unsynchronized rhythm. The frost was thick enough to appear as though a white blanket had been placed over the ground, seamless in its coverage and dense enough to give the illusion of ice crystals and sequins.
Driving along the suburban country road - an oxymoron, I realize - I could see in the distance a heavy, filmy mist that I surely thought must be fog, yet as I neared the river, I noted that the mist was rising from the water's surface, not descending from the sky as fog would. There were no hanging tendrils of cloud formations hovering above the ground, rather the misty, watery tulle was roiling off the water, as if a witch's cauldron had reached the boiling point over a hot fire. Ethereal in appearance, driving through the mist was quite like making one's way through the artificial cobweb material that is hung during the month of October in preparation for Halloween. Once through the mist and away from the river, the sun was out in full regalia, beaming down on the landscape like a proud papa. The veil had parted, only to reveal homes, trees, horses, fields, and fences. I wasn't going to come face to face with Bela Lugosi or a serial killer in the bogs of Scotland after all!
Ancora imparo
