“The Fog”
“The fog began to crawl up the sides of the mountains, licking up in tongue shapes, here and there. Less dense patches floated up the flanks of the rock, looking like waterfalls or ghosts splayed out in abandon. The cottony softness of the white fog utterly blotted out the sharp, hard outlines of the gray prominences of quartz, granite, and gneiss. Mother Nature had tucked in her stony child, laid a comforting blanket atop his ungainly limbs, and sent him off to sleep.”