Fog

I’ve been a Maine since mid June finishing my second novel. It has been foggy probably 95% of the time I have been here. Fog is beautiful, but ultimately it becomes disorienting. This morning I read that fog is like a cage without a key. That seems a bit extreme, but not being able to see more than a few feet, rarely seeing the sun, and neither moon nor stars makes the days and nights blend into one another in a bizarre rhythm. This is probably what it’s like to live in Scandinavia in the winter. Great writing weather, however. Happy summer!