A Foggy Walk

This morning I was about to pour the rest of the contents of my French Press into a travel mug when I looked out the window.

There was fog.

Not a faint hint of cloud which makes you believe your eyes must still be out of focus from sleep, mind you. This was fog – dense and thick and beautiful 1. The way the fog manipulated the light of the breaking dawn was stunning.

At that moment I had a decision to make. I was about to head on the train to catch a ride in Bordentown, and I didn’t have enough hands to deal with the full contents of a travel-mug and carry a camera. I needed to decide if I wanted to bring along my traditional morning companion, or run upstairs and grab my DSLR.

Sometimes we have to suffer for our art.

I guzzled down my first mug of coffee, bounded upstairs 2, switched to my 40mm prime lens, and got my Nikon ready to shoot. The picture below, I believe, shows I made the best choice.

A leafy branch on a foggy morning

Coffee is wonderful, and tasty and… very coffee-ish. But the gift of forcing myself to pause on the way to the train station, so I could take notice of my surroundings, was a blessed treat.

We all have appointments to keep, but sometimes the better play is to stop and notice the fog wrapped around nearby branches.

  1. If you weren’t driving in it, that is. If you’re driving then it’s a scary annoyance. 
  2. Cause, you know, coffee

One thought

  1. Your choice was a right one. Thank you. When I woke up and. Saw the fog I hoped you would capture it with your. Camera .

    Sent from my iPad

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