BitterSweetLife

What was it Carl Sandburg said about weather?—“The fog creeps in on little cat feet?” Today’s fog seemed too monolithic to be feline. It descended like a veil and did not “move on.” Instead, one had the sense that Autumn was padding in behind it. The murk was a thin diversion, stealing our eyes while the main force moved in under cover of greyness. Rain misted across downtown all day and when I transected campus, car to class, class to library, my vision was reduced. Damp, chilly, blurry, Fall approached. I could not see it, but I felt hollow. The imminent plunge was evident in the obscurity of its features.