Ice Fog

Friday morning's run, seven miles through the fog of evaporating snow. Hardened crust on the trail turned overnight to slightly mushy, still firm enough to run on, slush. In short, better footing.

Fog adds something to the timber, call it mystical, whatever: still seven miles.

By morning even the slush was gone- greens of the floodplain bottom, browns of the forest floor underneath. 50 degrees in December.