A Walker in the Mist
This weekend’s walks were as much liquid as solid. Moisture clung to my hair and face. My breath came in clouds, and my skin felt clammy and alive. It was invigorating to walk in the mist, to feel heaven and earth as one. The weekend’s weather brought to mind a nursery rhyme that begins, “One misty moisty morning, when cloudy was the weather, I chanced to meet an old man, dressed all in leather.” I’m not sure leather was the best garment choice this weekend.