She has a book with some chapters where she talks about fog. A little settlement on the cliffs by the ocean in the states which frequently gets smothered in fog, so heavy that the kiddies like to play hide and seek in it.
I can't remember the name! Does anyone know it? It's crazy. I have a shelf full of pretty much all of her books but I can't find that book? Either way, it's only a small part of the story, but something which has long stayed in my mind. The idea of that sorta fog baffles me. In London fog is accompanied by that annoying, misty rain which makes your hair poof before you get to wherever it is you commute. Diane describes it like another world. It's hard to believe that people live in such a contrasting place.
So naturally, when I was floating around in the low clouds before the clock even hit 7am one morning (I am an unswayed morning bird) on the 18th October (according to the photo 'Properties' button) I thought of Diane's little place.
The world is so silent at that time of the morning that it's eerie. It feels as if every little crinkly sound of your jacket is drawing too much attention. It got a bit creepy in the end. I was in the middle of this huge, foggy park with these horse-sized crows squawking around me in circles. Help. I took as many as I could before scooting away with saturated (literally) 'breathable' trainers. They went into the spin dryer and had to air for about a week. I guess it rained a lot the night before.
Little Foggy paradise:
Bliss.
No comments:
Post a Comment