‘Twas a morning coated with fog. The trees are turning and the gray skies make a perfect backdrop to bring out the vibrant reds and oranges. I went for my usual run, and because of the fog, I could only see a little ways ahead and a little ways behind. I didn’t even realize I was approaching my mid-mark until I was almost upon it. Today I stopped at that mark and ventured down the hill past the tree line to explore whatever might lay behind. I found myself in a circular meadow between the trail and the river naturally fenced in by trees with lots of tall grasses dotted with yellow wildflowers and queen anne’s lace. I sat on the ground and the tall grasses came over the top of my head. The fog creating a light haze and obscuring views of anything past the immediate scene made it all very dreamlike. I stayed for as long as I could.