The fog comes
on little cat feet.

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

I’m always giddy to use a line from my favorite Carl Sandburg poem, thus the title. And on cat feet it came, only this time it was ice fog instead of the traditional kind. It left just as slyly, leaving me only one location to try to grab a few shots of its remarkable effects!

With an otherwise crystal-clear sky, the airborne crystals of this ice fog turned any bright light source into a blazing spire piercing the darkness above Bismarck-Mandan. In some places with enough bright light sources close together, the sight was reminiscient of aurora borealis!

I noticed these by accident, keeping true with my typical modus operandi: stumble into the right place at the right time, with my camera in my possession. Why do you think my motto is, “it’s better to be lucky than good?” I had stepped out to run an errand for my wife when I saw this phenomenon in the sky, and I took quick advantage of it. I’m glad I was timely in doing so; within twenty minutes, the ice fog has gone. Little cat feet, indeed.