They predicted Fog, and indeed I watched as Fog, that veiled lady, rose up above the ice-cold waters of my creek, into the spring-like air.
She moved along the water course, her veils growing all around her until the water and the woods were no longer visible to us.
Then came the rains, and Fog, the veiled lady, made herself a part of all that cooling moisture, and in the growing shadows of her veils, the temperatures grew colder, slow degree by slow degree.
Soon she made the world invisible to us, but we could see quite clearly what lay ahead the next few days for us.
Fog was the escort who would bring the bitter Winter back, to resume its proper place with January and the season...
