Fog comes to the Big Easy
We woke this morning to a silvery grey fog that hung and clung to landscape here on Bayou St. John. As Loca and I walked through the spooky park this morning, we marveled at how quiet the fog makes the world. It’s interesting because one of the lores of the South is that it is so hot people have their windows open and you can hear the private conversations for miles because voices travel easy over the viscuous humid air. But in the fog there is a silence that hangs like moss from the trees.