If something has been around for 100 years you might think it
has been improved, remodeled, or is even passe. In 1916, Carl
Sandburg published a collection of poems called “Chicago
Poems”. And in the book is a poem that is just as relevant
today as it was then:
The fog comes on
little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Very early this morning I ventured outside to a sky filled
with stars and not a cloud or blemish to be seen.
Even closer to sun rise the morning showed promise of blue
skies so I came inside to read the paper and await the wifes
arrival, then run errands. Imagine our surprise when we
walked out into this.
The picture was taken looking towards the church steeple and
the trees just beyond the phone lines are only 75 feet away.
The steeple is just above the tree line in the center, about
1,000 feet away, and not visible in this shot. At least when
it rains you can hear it.
So we cruised to take care of the errands engulfed by this fog.
Then we got home, unloaded the car, and thought it was going to
be a gloomy day. And the fog lifted.
The fog had moved on and the day did indeed turn out beautiful.
Carl Sandburg was, and is, right. His turn of words fit today.
Enjoy your weekend.
Comments are always welcome.