I thought it was pretty at first, the way the fog rolled in over the bay and completely hid the water from view.
Foolish girl!
It rolled onto the lower beach areas and the land close to the water.
Smugly, I thought, “How pretty it looks, and how lucky am I to be living on higher ground in the clear blue sky.”
But pride comes before the fall. You might be able to see the mist lifting ever so slightly, rising up, looking for me.
Here it comes…
and here it stays, full of tiny droplets of ice water that almost freeze the air.
Carl Sandburg’s Chicago poem, “Fog,” made an impression on me the first time I heard it. He says it so simply, so “on the mark,” and with beautiful imagery.
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Carl Sandburg
But …
I’m sorry, Carl. I find that very often, the last line of your poem doesn’t work for me, so I’ve had to change it.
LOL!!! I love YOUR poem, well written!!!
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Too bad my poem is more true for these parts. Thanks for reading, Ursula.
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Your ending is great! Sort of reminds me of today’s weather in central Ohio . . . frosty and foggy!
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I would rather have Sandburg’s ending where the fog moves on, but so far it is staying. Good to know I’m not alone with this weather.
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It is pretty, Anneli, until… I could not stop laughing at your rewrite of Sandburg’s poem. Hysterical.
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Tnx. It’s what I do while waiting for the “fog”webs to clear from my mind.
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🙂
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Witty 😎
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Thanks, Hans. Glad you liked it.
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Witty 😎
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We are getting a lot of that too, to the south of here though where it has caused temperature inversions. Luckily we have stayed above it where the temps stayed warmer than the single digits a hundred miles to the south. That cat sure gets around!
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He sure does get around. I hear he’s down the Washington coast as well.
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Still lovely, despite its persistence.
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LOL! Love it, Anneli!
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Thanks a lot, Jill.
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Another poem: If winter comes, can spring be far behind? Not Sandburg this time, this one is courtesy of Percy Bysshe Shelley-It’s always a comfort on wintry days!
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Yes, so true. I love Shelley’s poems, especially Ozymandias.
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You are so funny! Raw Raw Raw indeed. I happen to love the fog – when we lived in the SF Bay area I’d listen to the deep fog horns (from near the Golden Gate Bridge) from our cozy warm home. But, I admit, where we lived the fog cleared out almost every day by noon. ;-0
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Third day of waiting for it to lift. Well, okay, it lifted a little bit but I still can barely make out the far shoreline, not to mention the hills that we can usually see. The wind is supposed to come up very briskly tomorrow evening, so it will be back to good ole wind and rain. I almost welcome it.
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There is definitely an eeriness living in/among the fog.
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It’s almost like being partially blind, I would imagine.
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I’ve always loved the Sandburg poem and thought it perfect! But then, I must admit I’ve never had an unrelenting winter weather experience. I think you’re on to something with your clever revision. Brrr!
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Thanks, Debra. So glad to hear that you like Sandburg’s poem. I think his imagery is perfect here. As for my revision … well, it was just a bit of fun.
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Beautiful photos, Anneli, even if it was raw. We finally get whacked with our first storm this weekend. It will be a big one! I’ll take photos.
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Sorry to hear that. I hope it won’t do much (if any) damage. We had a pretty windy night again last night. I’ll be glad when this kind of weather is over.
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Thanks, Anneli. I’ll be glad when this weather is over, too.
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Very atmospheric images and true words.
Regards Thom
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Thanks, Thom. We are now past the fog stage (for a while anyway) and have bright blue skies that are totally foreign to us here on the coast in the winter. The snow on the mountaintops is pink in the mornings. What a change!
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Sounds bliss.
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Getting better all the time.
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