Fog

I am finding it harder and harder to wake up these mornings as the days get shorter and sunlight becomes an increasingly precious commodity. Yesterday, our promised rain manifested as a dense fog that clung close to the surface and embossed the whole day with a dream-like tint. On my walk in to work, visibility as low as it was, scarves wrapped tightly around everybody's heads, buildings veiled in haze, it was easy to forget where I was, and even though I walk the same stretch of State Street every morning, I could have sworn I had been transported to a winter day in Berkeley.

Isn't it odd how you can feel the most out of place on those days where you feel the most like you're at home?