July 8, 2005:
Sunshine. Blink, you miss it. Even as you type this sentence the fog returns, rolling eastward like fate, cresting the ridgeline, until it pours like Niagara down the hillside, a slow-motion waterfall.
Sunshine. Blink, you miss it. Even as you type this sentence the fog returns, rolling eastward like fate, cresting the ridgeline, until it pours like Niagara down the hillside, a slow-motion waterfall.