The fog comeson little cat feet.It sits lookingover harbor and cityon silent haunchesand then moves on.By Carl Sandburg
This poem by Carl Sandburg could have been penned on a day just like Wednesday when we spent a few hours exploring the Carl Sandburg Home National Historic Site. It was a delightful morning and there will be more posts forthcoming but for today I wonder if Mr. Sandburg was inspired by fog that rolled into the home site on a similar day.
Do you embrace foggy days or do they press in on you? Let me know in the comments and remember to Comment for a Cause.