![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji53tjcwx8HfHj2IEVz00CTC6_3xjtTwnnVG01DDQlHpGVpj0lfYbTrnb5b8VoxMQtdPML9C0rWyP-tqa0a6F9sf2vxRyZscu04TqyeCLxa8DbRBB-GccZZjfcxog7hhKUYuQdXAoW9VI/s400/22074780_Nuit06.jpg)
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Carl Sandburg
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Fog often falls over my town, in the morning. It gets misterious and acquires a distinctive beauty. I have learned to like a foggy dawn.
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