High fog outside - homey weather. I grew up deep in the fog. I remember hourless white skies. Clumps of fog rolling humorously, gothically down the street outside our windows. Am almost able to drink it through my skin like a redwood tree.
The smell of tea tree oil on my chin. Inside a soft cotton mask.
S. has turned all the lights on, opened the blinds, and made the bed by the time I return from the bathroom in the morning.
Warm running tights.
Crows yelling in the power lines overhead.
"Am almost able to drink it through my skin like a redwood tree."
ReplyDeleteWonderful line. I love the textured/sensory/vivid feeling of these observations. It's so cool to be transported into a few moments of your life like this!
Thank you <3 I am ever passionate about fog.
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