Shrouded

This morning the St. Simons Island was fog bound. I spent much of the day inland in Brunswick without the fog but when I returned the fog, albeit lessened, was still hanging around.

I walked out to the beach where the fog was most dense. As I approached the shore the gulls walked away to give me birth. None flew, just walked. Standing in the pleasant but cool and wet air, staring out into the cloud felt almost ancient. I saw and heard the waves but not much more; the world beyond removed from human reach, maybe from the gulls' reach too.

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