There is fog out there
this morning, thick as our blue funk. It rained yesterday, gently; today everything is lifted and is carried in the air - all that moisture is an underworld to walk through.
I talked yesterday with a fellow I've always thought had an unusual and original turn of mind; now I find out he is just an ordinary cracker, and I'm disappointed. In the past, though he is unschooled, he had an unusual perspective on things. Yesterday he sounded like conservative talk radio turned up a few decibels and down a few IQ points (if that is possible - is that possible?).
The fog closes down the view a quarter mile off in all directions. Trees are eerie sentinels in the ghostliness.
The shoulders to the west side of Highway E have not been graveled.
The corn still standing, most of it must be field corn, yet some of it gives no sign of turning. Either it is very late sweet corn or it holds its secrets close.
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