Sunday, June 10, 2018

Fog

My favorite Carl Sandburg quote is about my favorite weather element–Fog. 

"The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on."


In my case, it's not the harbor but the golf course behind my house where the fog sat yesterday morning. As I stared out my window lost in my usual morning fog, waiting for the coffee to kick in so I could start writing, I stopped and focused the fog for a moment. It was moving gently across the ground, mirroring my thought pattern. I'm at the stage of my manuscript where I'm just reading the story and massaging it a bit, moving through the story slowly, beefing up the important scenes. My mind started thinking of ideas, possible scenarios that I'd live through if I was on a wagon train headed west. I climbed on board the wagon with my ladies and got to work.

When I got up to grab my second cup of coffee, the fog had moved on. As had my brain fog. I made it through half the manuscript by day's end. Lots done, lots still to go.

On a personal note, I'd like to say farewell to one of my Crimson Romance sisters. Peggy Bird was a bright light in the early days of the Crimson brand and will be sorely missed. She was always posting pictures of buff men in teeny swim trunks saying they had just washed up on her beach. This is for you, Peggy. I hope there's a beach where you are now.






4 comments:

  1. I love fog as long as I'm not driving in it. Enjoyed both of your pictures, especially the guy who watched up on the beach.

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    1. Thanks, Linda. It always brightens my day to have a buff bod on display.

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    2. And that man looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo. Truly a work of art.

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  2. Peggy was such a joy. She will be missed.

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