the fog partout

i thought i had seen it in every way possible, but that was not true. as i gathered greens from the forest floor ferns and moss i suddenly saw it or perhaps i felt it come at me head on. the fog thick and if possible roaring without a sound. magical, i know i wish i had a better word for it. i was not dressed in some ethereal dress of white or romantic red unfortunately, i wore jeans with dried mud, a dark sweater with hay all over it,  clogs covered with dirt, manure and evidence of a dog who must have thought them a chew toy, my hair a dark mess of curls and no doubt hay could be found mingling among them. the fog came in so quick that for a second i became disoriented but ducks sounds pointed me in the right direction. the tempertature was milder than just an a few minutes before even though dusk was a moment away. how is it that this place here never stops taking my breath away, one can almost feel beautiful here.