Fog, Ice & Fire

 Four days - October 9 through October 12 - we've gone from a foggy morning, complete with frost, to a fiery sunrise and then a day with temperatures into the low 70's.

On 10/09, this is the scene I saw as I took my morning walk. Beside the neighbor's lane, the trees stood enveloped in cloud and my world was contracted to a hundred feet. It is mornings like these, though, when sounds carry and bring the world uncannily close. I listened to a school bus thread its way along Clayton Road and every braking was as though it was right beside me. I could tell where the bus stopped and imagine which child climbed the steps and took a seat.

 With the temperature at 33°, there was a general frost and the fog was surely close to precipitating from the air as ice. The rees seemed to have dark dead fingers which reached for me as I passed.

 The corn stubble looked as though a brief snow flurry had whitened the ground. In the distance, familiar trees were all but swept from view.

 When at last the sun had risen I saw no more than an apricot glow and I could not quite be sure at first whether it was the sun or my imagination. Yet, nearly dead-center in this picture, the sun has climbed well above the horizon and begins eating into the fog with dainty nibbles.

 Two days later, the frost revisited and coated the weeds at the edge of the field with a fine white filigree. There was no fog, though. The sun shone brilliantly as soon as it had risen. But the temperature was colder (28°) and my walk was only made comfortable by the lack of wind.

 This morning (10/12) I was up at 6:45 am and waiting for my brother so we could have breakfast at a nearby restaurant. Well before 8 am, I walked into the yard to watch for sunrise. A few clouds drifted along the eastern horizon as the telltale orange glow fired.

 A few cars passed but, as it was Saturday, the morning was generally still. I waited for the sun.

... and about 7:45 am there it was, just pushing up through the trees on the distant tree-line, surely half a mile away. As a child I remember rising early for vacation and being on the road to Bear Lake hours before the sun rose. We'd watch for it, happy for the week ahead. It was never so glorious once it rose.