Yesterday I was woken by my boyfriend declaiming the fact that it was foggy outside. Despite not having had a cup of tea yet I was persuaded to go for a morning walk in the fog. I was glad I did. By the time we got home again the fog had almost all been burnt up by the sun. Sometimes you just have to get outside and make the most of what the day has to offer.
I felt cold as we walked the streets, the first time I have really felt the cold since autumn started. I have known its here by the changing of the leaves. Though it took a sudden urge to look up from the pavement for me to notice. I have a terrible habit of using walking time as thinking time, which means I don’t tend to notice what’s going on around me.
We didn’t go on a long walk, just a short stroll down the high street and back again. Most of the shops were shut and the high street was empty. I thought to myself this is how some people start the day everyday, with a walk, outside breathing cold, fresh air. And what a good way to start the day. The only other time I get that experience is when I go camping and its probably my favourite part of camping. I get so used to the idea of my morning routine, reading a few pages of a book, drinking tea, inside. It was good to get out.
The fog was a little disappointing, but fog is almost always like that. You can see the fog and you think, in a few feet I’ll be inside it, completely immersed in it. But it’s like stepping in to a crowd, however impenetrable it looks from afar it always finds a space for you. I have only experienced really dense fog once in my life, the kind where I couldn’t even see my hands in front of me. I was walking through the city in the dark and it was an unsettling experience to have the world unfolding around me without warning.
Still, I’m glad I left the house early and greeted the clouds. I also got to see things a little differently. Like the spider’s webs clinging to the railings that I would never have notice without their coating of fog.