Friday, November 09, 2012
Yesterday morning was cold and foggy
The grass had gone and had it's tips frosted overnight.
Now everyone's going to think I've got gay grass
(I live in the midwest, folks).
Despite the cold, a few trees still have some nice color, so I decided to snap a quick photo.
And then I was driving and as I neared the mighty Mississippi River, my car was surrounded by a mysterious fog.
What does any of this have to do with books or literature or reading or anything?
Nothing, really. I mean, if I have to provide some kind of connection then maybe I can point you in the direction of Stephen King's short story "The Mist," which coincidentally takes place very close to where I went to summer camp.
Or maybe this post is some kind of subliminal message from my overlords at the PBA?
Maybe so. Maybe not.