A beautiful fog

This morning, the most gorgeous soft mist met me when I stepped out of the front door. Like an English autumn morning, the air was crisp and damp. And unlike an English autumn morning in an English city, the straight-as-an-arrow roads of Montréal's Plateau allowed my eyes to wander into a distance that was obscured from sight. I've spent the last few weeks getting up at 0600hr for work. With work gone, however, I'm tempted to continue the habit, because these early morning experiences, as I make my first tentative steps outside, are always a treat.