Faithfully through the fog

In times of transition, fog rules my world. 

All along my commute the creeks and rivers remain mostly frozen, and on wet, warming days like today, the fog rising from the river turns everything gray. But it's not a uniform gray; I stop along my creek and see meltwater flowing atop ice, water so silvery-gray and smooth that it looks like spreading mercury.

It's not easy to drive in this befogged world where my car's headlights simply reflect back into my own eyes. I set out to do my job but I have to feel my way carefully along the highway, hoping that the big blank fogbank doesn't hold a semi barrelling straight at me. Moving forward feels like an act of faith, but if the alternative is staying home with my head under the covers, I guess I'd better get on the road. 

And no, I'm not just talking about the weather here--but I'm not quite ready to write about the other elements fogging my mind.

The view from my bridge.