It didn’t seem that foggy when I went out the door walking Delly this morning. Turning the corner by the pond, though, you got into this --
Like one of those Monet paintings he did in London. You feel slightly untethered, detached, insecure.
Isn’t that the way it is? You know there’s something there and you naturally strain to see it but you just can’t get there. You know it’s a normal part of things, but you still want the sun to come out.
Clarity will return in it’s time. Meanwhile, you get a holiday from details and the distraction of walking by sight.
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