The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

I first read this poem by Carl Sandburg back in third grade or so. It’s hard to remember when, exactly; I was in private school and would go to the 7th or 8th grade for some of my classes, as they allowed students to progress at their own rate. As a result, things tend to blend together in my memory. Then I moved to North Dakota and got rubber-banded back to my current grade in all classes. Sigh…what a buzzkill. Anyway, sorry for dragging you through my childhood. How about that fog photo?

There were two belts of fog tonight: one started above the open channel of the Big Muddy and expanded until it covered the entire river, and the second engulfed east Mandan along I-94. It was downright thick, folks. I was able to hike out along the rip rap lining the boat dock south of Merriwether’s. Actually, I hope I was above the rock; I’d hate to think I was standing on frozen river, as that’d be pretty hazardous! Just kidding…I was standing where the weeds stuck up through the snow.

I tried a number of different exposures and framings, but the fog was advancing rapidly. I settled on this shot since a good portion of the bridge was still visible. It wasn’t long before the entire thing was obscured and I was free to hike back to my warm truck for the drive home to my warm bed. That’s where I’m heading now!