Fog

Today as I was leaving for my evening run, I was greeted by this view.  Fog was moving in across the top of Clinch Mountain while a different fog bank filled the valley.

Carl Sandburg described fog in this way:

Fog

THE fog comes

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

To me, the fog looks more like an invading army crashing across the mountain and into the valley.  It engulfs all in its path as it obliterates sight and sound.  It silently stalks as it invades the valley below.

Perhaps its all a matter of perspective.  If you are the field mouse is there a difference between the cat and the invading army?