People were hard to see until you were right up on them. Even the sound of the ocean was somehow muted. The feelings were very comforting and restful. I thought it particularly appropriate as I was attending the funeral of a friend later in the morning. This quiet time gave me peace.
I was also reminded of my days of living on the coast of Maine and of this wonderful little Carl Sandburg poem:
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
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