I looked out my window this morning to see the front yard hidden in a thick fog. It looked so magical, I rambled down to the beach and found it silent, empty, and eerily beautiful.
Away from the sand, the air was soft with moisture. Drops of water clung to the trees. Spider webs were silver with dew.
It was one of those magical, m(i)stical times, when the world seems to stop turning. There was nothing but the sound of dripping water on damp leaves, and the sound of my muffled footsteps.
Just lovely.
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