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The Lonely Road

It’s been a misty sort of day here, which translates into thick fog when I’m near home, since I’m so close to the ocean. We’ve been covered in fog for most of the last week, a very soft fog, the sort that covers you over like a soft blanket. You can see, but perhaps not much further than a block. Standing on the boardwalk, you can only hear the ocean.

It is the most comforting solitude I could imagine. You are alone, sequestered in fog, but not alone, since someone can be around every corner.

Tonight my walk home was absolutely lovely, as the fog caught the chirps of the birds that have returned and pushed the sound down and around my head. I wandered through my neighborhood, absently reading a book as I walk, as usual, but comforted by the presence of spring all around me.

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