There is a tertiary road locally know as the Back Mountain Road (one of several) across from Windham. It has a name and a route number, but few people know them( me included). This road is the quick way down out of the mountains to places north-ish of here. It veers off route 10 and goes straight down a steep , narrow cleft, with a small stream at the bottom. I love this road and travel it often, even in less than stellar conditions. So this morning, I was careening down the middle of the road, maneuvering the serpentine twists and turns, feeling the centripetal force, not wanting to hit the brakes too hard on the wet slick road surface. The road breaks through the forest, opens into fields that drop off precariously to the valley floor. Only this morning, there is no bottom. There is only white glowing fog, swirling, undulating, feathery wisps dancing on mysterious currents. The cloud bank was below, I guessed where ahead on the road I would enter the grey mist, down, down, completely enveloped in the silent murky fog. Down through the mountain cleft, following the tiny piece of road I can see in the gloom, past the fields unseen, into a lower forest marked be a darkening of the surrounding cloud, down out of the mountain pass and suddenly back into the sunlight!


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