There's something about the fog that brings these ordinary roads alive, shaped inside a vanishing point. All those times that have me wondering where I'm going, they seem a little more in control when I can't see it coming. Like I'm on the edge of the world, just maybe, could be falling from the cliff and never know it. Could be standing on some pleading precipice, I hear the ocean but it's all in my ears. For someone like me, who fears the future only just slightly more than the present, it's a relief to be contained in the moment. For a little while, my world is made of penetrable walls, that stay the same distance however I approach them. Maybe it's maddening if you look at it wrong, but I feel a sense of safety and shelter when the clouds come to earth. I'm never in a rush to see them lifting.