The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
... Carl Sandburg
I chased the fog this morning, through river valleys and pastures, all the way to my favorite farm. I've photographed it in all seasons, but never on a foggy morning. The best view is from the east, but the fog was so thick this morning. I couldn't even see the barn.
So I had to be content with this view, with the fog rising up out of the Green River Valley spreading south to envelope the buildings, and the pre-dawn light sucking all the color out of the landscape.
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