A foggy morning usually turns into a hot day. I love these early mornings when everything is quiet and everybody is asleep. Except for me as I wander, cup of tea in hand, among the trees and let my thoughts do the same. All too soon, the sun comes out, and the birds in the trees, and the boats on the river, and the spell is broken. Until the next morning.
In the meantime, don't complain about not being able to read this blog's title. You blew your chance in '45. As did Mark Twain a long time before you when he decided he would rather decline two drinks than one German adjective. I drink to that!
