Morning Fog
Crisp fall air.
Gliding through the light post-rush hour traffic, rounding the corner.
Heading down, into the valley, an upward gaze.
A mystical fog hovers over the road, a vision from film and fantasy.
Wispy tendrils of vapor mask the canyon walls.
Trees hidden, emerge slowly as I near.
A shudder as the ambient temp drops.
Off to work… I ride.
