fog and rain

It is raining this morning.  I knew it would come.  Not because I read the forecast days prior or because I listened to the local meteorologist.  No, it was because of the fog.  It seems, after years of observing, that the rain follows on the heels of fog.  Like a game of cat and mouse, a continuous race that seems forever in favor of the fog.

I find the fog magical, as if the earth has been cloaked under an enchanted veil.  It seems to silence all around, colors disappear and the world beholds wonder and mystery.  With every curve or hill I pushed through another passerby would seem to magically appear through the misty curtain.  I wondered if they observed my reveal the same as I had theirs.

Upon my return home, the fog lifted and the sun warmed the damp ground.  Night fell and the rain, grasping onto the heels of the fog, returned as expected.