Walking After Midnight

Just got in from a late-night walk through the neighborhood. It's usually quieter after midnight, but it's quite unusual for me to walk for fifteen or twenty minutes--even after midnight--and not be passed by a single car. For that matter, I didn't even hear any traffic from nearby Sandy Plains or Shallowford Roads, both of which are usually fairly busy all night long.

It's an exceptionally foggy, murky night following a day of off-and-on rain and drizzle. The last of the mist faded away at about 5 this afternoon, but it left the air so sodden that all turned to thick cloudy fog as the night drew on. I've heard the overused simile "fog like a blanket," but that's exactly what it felt like--dense, close, and enveloping. And in this fog, I heard no cars, no airplanes, no distant sirens, nothing to break the silence of the night except the sound of my own footsteps.

Nights like this are exceptional. In the solitude, I whispered a few words to Mom--I speak to her every night when I'm walking--and enjoyed the misty darkness for a moment more before the fog and I parted ways.