THE MORNING FOG

But there was also a dimension of serenity, of peacefulness, that I have found nowhere else. Among those very special moments, the arrival of the morning fog was especially intense and full of wonder, those mornings when everything seemed shrouded in a great white cloud that softened all outlines. There were no distinguishable shapes or bodies; the trees were immense, white silhouettes; even my grandfather, as he walked in front of me on his way to the barn to milk the cows, was a white ghost. The fog covered and ennobled this rather desolate and barren land, giving it a kind of aura. The hills and slopes became huge snowy mountains, and the whole land was a misty, fresh expanse in which we all seemed to be floating in space.