Fog Sings A Siren Song
After uncountable weeks of frigid cold, temperatures have warmed, causing a great melt of snow and ice. The ground, already saturated and still frozen down below, refuses to accept any more water.
Without Foghorns
Some days, 6:30am seems a little too early to be slipping out of the house for a walk on the rocky shore. But on days like this one, filled with the romance of old novels about the mysteries of the sea, I find it not only natural, but compelling, to get out there into the damp air…