Misty Mornings

I remember when I was little and we would awake to a foggy morning.  These mornings were very rare and my sisters and I would have a little bit more pep in our step to get out the door to walk to school in the low hanging clouds.  Oh how wonderful and eerie it would be to skip down the sidewalk, with the unfamiliar humidity on our faces, and hoping that a fairytale monster didn't jump out from the dense fog.

The fog is no stranger to the Everglades, especially in the winter months.  The other morning though, it didn't overtake the whole world, but sat on the sides of the road.  The white mist grazed inches above the dew drenched pastures in long, smooth bands.  Most of my carpool companions were quiet with sleep as I watched the mist slowly fade as the world began to wake.